


Hansel & Gretel - Hunters' Metal

by DagReaper (TyJaxReaper)



Series: Movie-verse [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Hansel and Gretel: Witch Hunters (2013), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hansel and Gretel Fusion, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Avenger Shenanigans, Bucky Barnes & Steve Rogers Friendship, Bucky Barnes Gets a Hug, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Bucky Barnes-centric, Fantasy, Fluff and Angst, Hansel Is Hansel, Hot Tub Sex, Kissing, M/M, Magic, Making Love, Making Out, Mother Hen Steve Rogers, Pining, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Sam Wilson is So Done, Slow Build, Story Arc, Tony Stark Does What He Wants, Witches and Shiat!, clint is hansel, etcetera - Freeform, multiple actually
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2016-10-09
Packaged: 2018-08-19 01:03:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 24,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8182897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TyJaxReaper/pseuds/DagReaper
Summary: The movie "Hansel & Gretel - Witch Hunters" with a twist.----------“We have finally caught the one responsible for all this terror. For crimes against this city and people of Augsburg, and consorting with the spawn of Satan,” his breath shook lightly on exhale when everyone started whispering in hushed, grim tones and pitches, all eyes on either him or the Sheriff as he preached. “I hereby accuse… this man! Of the craft of Witchery!” they shouldn’t believe it, the mere thought of a man being a witch was slim to none and as unbelievable as livestock flying. And yet, the gazes darting to him and occasional yells of ‘burn him’ told him otherwise. They believed every word this man said.“Behold!” his lengthy, almost black, brown hair was grabbed in a rough hold, stinging and forcing a weak grunt from his throat as he was pulled back, forced to look up and out to the townsfolk that had gathered to see. “The eyes of a demon,” he blinked rapidly and could feel his heart stuttering, but he’d had worse, seen worse, felt worse. This man was nothing.“Go ta hell,” he spat.





	1. Part 1/2

**Author's Note:**

> [Click Here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QlqrwuTwWnI) for where I watched the movie constantly over a span of a few days to finish this and make it as perfect as I could. Or as perfect as I wanted it. 
> 
> A thanks goes out to [NeverTrustAFox](http://archiveofourown.org/users/NeverTrustAFox/profile) and [arakiel](http://archiveofourown.org/users/arakiel/pseuds/arakiel) for reading some of it over. It really boosted my confidence in actually writing this until it was finished. So thank you so much!! 
> 
> And I hope you all enjoy :)

“We have finally caught the one responsible for all this terror. For crimes against this city and people of Augsburg, and consorting with the spawn of Satan,” his breath shook lightly on exhale when everyone started whispering in hushed, grim tones and pitches, all eyes on either him or the Sheriff as he preached. “I hereby accuse… this man! Of the craft of Witchery!” they shouldn’t believe it, the mere thought of a man being a witch was slim to none and as unbelievable as livestock flying. And yet, the gazes darting to him and occasional yells of ‘ _burn him_ ’ told him otherwise. They believed every word this man said.

“Behold!” his lengthy, almost black, brown hair was grabbed in a rough hold, stinging and forcing a weak grunt from his throat as he was pulled back, forced to look up and out to the townsfolk that had gathered to see. “The eyes of a demon,” he blinked rapidly and could feel his heart stuttering, but he’d had worse, seen worse, felt worse. This man was nothing.

“Go ta hell,” he spat, eyeing him darkly from the corner of his vision. Next thing he knew, he was being plunged face-first into the barrel, taking in water. He resisted struggling, resisted the urge to fight back. It was hard while being drowned, forced to inhale the water because he hadn’t had time to take a breath beforehand.

He’d only just caught the muffled yells and gurgled words that sounded like ‘ _Order_ ’ before being pulled back from the barrel, hands still holding him tight and he struggled, his soaking hair lining his face and dripping from him as he finally took air into his lungs and breathed in fast pants.

“Berringer,” Bucky glanced over to where the Sheriff stood, the mayor standing in front of him. “This is still my town,” he watched the Sheriff reluctantly obey, stepping aside to let the Mayor through to the centre of the stage and turn towards the people as if he were about to announce.

“Listen to me,” Bucky heard the man almost plea, rubbing the underside of his nose with his tissue. “As your mayor, I only too well that many of you have lost precious loved ones to this witch plague, but we can’t just burn this man. We first need evidence, we can’t just have this-,”

“You know a witch, when you see one,” the Sheriff cut in strong and broad, overlapping the others voice so easily. They ride at night and they make pack with the devil,” he glanced his way with dark eyes and pointed. “This man will burn!” and the roaring, cheers and yells followed, praising the man on his beliefs and unbreakable order of burning him at the stake. His heart was hammering in his chest, hard and fearful of breaking through his ribs.

The clouded thoughts shook him and he’d almost missed the woman in tight clothes, with a weapon wielded in her hand, stepping up behind the Sheriff with quiet, stealthy movements, as fluid as water. And when the crowd began to fall silent of cheers and ‘ _burn him_ ’s had been when the man seemed to know something was wrong, it being confirmed when he didn’t move, stiffened by the gun barrel being pressed to the back of his head.

“Let the man go, or I’m gonna blow your Sheriff's brains all over these fuckin’ hillbillies,” not a second later, a man stepped out of the crowd in front, climbing the stage and heading his way with his own weapon in hand.

“Move,” he ordered, jutting his gun as if to silently gesture for them to leave. “Go on,” he reached out and moved them away, pushing them aside. He and the woman dressed similar, both in dark leathers with massive guns, the same attitude by the few words they’ve already said.

“Check him,” and again, as soon as she spoke, the man went into action and non-too gently reached for him, his hand grabbing between his neck and jaw, tilting his head forward and towards him.

“What’s your name?” he asked casually, his other hand reaching for his hair and lifting it aside to check his… ears? Both hands then went to his neck and jaw, tilting his head away and then reaching for his face with his thumb running his check and then down his face, eyes suddenly meeting for a brief moment before tilting his head back again. “What’s your name,” the question seemed more forceful and he brought his head back to normally stance, opening his mouth.

“Bucky,” he breathed roughly.

“When a woman deals in witchcraft, she cannot hide it,” the man pulled back his lips, checking his teeth and running his thumb over a few. He could taste the faint gunpowder and metal tang of his skin. “A nasty rot sets in, it shows in her teeth, her skin and her eyes,” he then let go of him, hands falling before turning to the crowd. Bucky licked his teeth behind his lips, taking away the taste and dryness from the short contact of air. “I say _‘she’_ because _he_ is not a witch. Men cannot be witches, it’s impossible,” he glanced back at him and all Bucky did was stare lightly, shaking from the cold water that seeped through the top of his faded white shirt. “He’s clean,”

“I’m sure your Sheriff was only trying to protect you good peopl-,”

“If you need evidence, look at his arm! The left!” the Sheriff suddenly blurted and Bucky stiffened considerably, his muscles tightening and all was silent, the two hunters gradually turning on him and staring cautiously, though they still had that air of casual comfort in their motions.

“Your sleeve and glove,” he eyed him, his gaze darting up at the man closest to him and his heart sped up. But he did as requested. Bucky raised the arm, taking his glove off and rolling the sleeve up half way towards his elbow, stopping just before the mechanical joint, where it’d bend. He jerked at the loud gasps and even louder whispers, ‘burn him’ being yelled again and he swallowed thickly, his jaw clenching with the fear growing again. “How,”

“My flesh arm was destroyed. A deranged man of science and mechanics dismembered the dead limb and permanently attached _this_ -,” he flexed the hand. “-In its place,” he said quietly, faintly and with a shake and crack to his voice. Bucky gradually looked back up to the man, seeing the guarded exterior as he eyed him in return with a serious expression. His gun hadn’t been aimed at him once, to whom he was thankful, and the lack of violence towards him from the two seemed like a very good thing, even though they were a slight bit more cautious now.

“Even with that arm-,” the woman spoke up. “-it still doesn’t make him a witch, or a danger. The real danger is out there. And your mayor has done a very smart thing. He hired us,” she lifted her gun, leaning the neck along her shoulder with her hand still gripping the butt where the trigger sat. “My name is Gretel, this is my brother, Hansel,” the man, Hansel, then did the same, eyeing the audience, while Bucky just stayed behind the man, watching his leather clad back for no apparent reason. Though his broad, strong shoulders could’ve been one. A reason.

“We know that many of your children’ve gone missing. But killing an innocent man will not bring them back,” Hansel spoke up after his sister, turning his head to direct the sentence at all of them, addressing it to everyone in the crowd below.

“ _Go home, we don’t want you here_ ,” a man further back yelled rudely.

“ _We don’t want more evil in Augsburg,_ ” a woman in the front row whined fearfully.

“Well evil is upon you, whether you like it or not,” the man a few feet away replied almost exasperatedly, with an irked tone. He may have thought that they clearly hadn’t understood their situation and what was happening to them. “Now, if your children are still alive, we will find them. But if anyone harms this man,” Bucky glanced up hesitantly, catching the man's’ suddenly soft gaze. “You’re gonna have me to deal with,” his tone was even softer and it was a change, a welcomed one which he wanted to hear more of. “Now go home,” he turned back fast, directing the solid order towards the townsfolk, who seemed reluctant, but only left at a too slow pace. “Go!”

Gradually, everyone started to disperse a little faster, and Bucky was left still staring at the man’s leathered back again, his shoulder-blades and upper spine, just below his neck. It was only when Hansel took a step that he caught himself and busied his hands and mind by slipping his sleeve back down and slipping his brown, leather glove over his fingers and hand, his right lacing the wrist of the glove down over the end of the sleeve.

“I guess… you’re free to go,” Bucky finished just as he finished the sentence, and he glanced up at him, gazing at the man gazing back. He could feel his insides flutter, his chest warming and his muscles loosened, relaxing under the soft, warm, comforting eyes.

“Thank you…” he breathed out quietly, keeping eye contact, and Bucky felt that warm fluttering again. “Hansel,” he bowed his head just a bit before taking a step back.

“You’re welcome,” he didn’t know whether he was smiling at him or not, but there was a subtle curve in the corners of his lips, aimed at him. He just had no clue on how to decipher the expression, as he jumped down from the stage and headed down the street, taking a last look at the man who was still watching him as he left.

\----------

“The North Forest, the mysterious cottage,” Steve repeated Sam’s words, who’d heard it from Tony. He had an expression of mild concern and thought crisscrossing his features, causing them to stay silent and wait for him to say more. Though he hadn’t, he stayed silent and glanced up between them with his brow still knitted.

“Witch cottage, actually,” Tony came up from behind, moving to sit that their table with a plate of meat, egg and beans. They all had generally the same on their plates, with Steve having more veggies from his thoughts and suggestions of healthier living. Bucky had replied to his preaches earlier with ‘ _I was nearly drowned today. I need a mountain of meat to get over it_ ’. To which he, Sam and Tony had laughed over while at the tavern. They’d offered to pay for his meal after they’d found out what had happened, wanting to give him something good after the shock. He was still a bit shaken now, his guard having strengthened and his senses sharpened to the point that he’d jump at anything that touched him, or brushed passed him. Steve had noticed and tried talking to him, and Bucky even tried to reply, but nothing of the event slipped his lips, only that Hansel and Gretel had saved him from Berringer, along with the mayor.

Steve had actually asked if they were still at the stage, so he could thank them personally.

“You talk to the Mayor again?” Sam questioned Tony from across the table, his fork scraping his plate as he picked up a few different things on it and lead it to his mouth.

“Yeah, before I came in,” the man spoke through a mouthful of bacon, using his free hand to force a few of the meat edges back into his mouth. “He said that the building was a dead end, no kids or evidence showing that she did any of it, but the hunters found this moon map,” he bit the metal ends of the fork, gritting his teeth on it and causing a very faint screech as he dragged it back and picked up more of his meal. Bucky listened intently, focusing on his words as the tavern filled with more as more men entered, making jokes and bumping into tables as if they were already drunk. “Not sure what it is or anything, but it seemed pretty important. There was something about a Blood-Moon, an eclipse. He said that the hunters were adamant that it had something to do with the rapidly disappearing kids so close to town,” and Bucky would agree. Even he knew that witches never ventured too close, not this close. From what Tony had said and his own thoughts, it was clear that there was something going on, something large scale and bad. He was tempted to find the siblings, the hunters, to ask. He was curious and he could maybe help with the smaller things, like knowledge if they’d let him.

No one knew this, apart from Steve, Sam and Tony, but his arm had given him enhanced strength, and accuracy, it also made him more guarded and his senses sharper than most. It was odd, made him a danger, even when Gretel had said that he hadn’t been. Bucky had learned to control it, hide it, to not struggle and fight back with everything he had. He’d believed and thought, a few times, that he wasn’t human at all anymore.

Steve had brought him back from those thoughts and grim images. He’d saved him from hating himself a few times.

Maybe an hour or two had passed by the time they were drinking, food having been eaten ages ago and they were almost severely hammered. Tony and Sam were laughing loudly, Steve laughing at them with Bucky. They’d shifted further into the corner, where table were emptied and no one seemed to bother them unless it was to ask if they wanted more drinks or a woman or two.

Bucky was sufficiently drunk, too much of it having been swallowed too fast and he was feeling the strong buzz of the alcohol in his system. It even made him think that he’d seen Hansel a few times, up at the bar with a woman who wasn’t Gretel. He was drinking as well as chatting to her, making wild hand gestures and then she’d left, leaving him there with his drink and then he’d disappeared into the crowd. So, either, he was there, or Bucky was too drunk-, No, he was there.

He eyed him as he went up the stairs, to the next level. Bucky and the group were in the basement level, where they’d have to go upstairs to leave through the front door.

His thoughts were taken when Steve, Sam and Tony dragged him up from his seat, too intoxicated to even pull away and he was brought up into a mass of drunken singing, most of the entirety of the underground level joining in the terribly off key musical.

Only a few minutes in and Sam was pulling from them, dropping away and doubling over as he threw his food and drink back up. The singing continued, even when the four of them stopped to help their friend. The extra bartender came over, an old bucket and mop in hand and he begrudgingly began cleaning after Sam finished, now sitting achingly on the edge of his seat with his head in his hands, moaning and groaning to himself.

“Wanna get out of here?” Steve questioned softly next to him so as to not give him a headache or any more pain. Anything could set off another round of puking and Bucky wasn’t too fond of the idea of seeing it again. He was feeling a bit grim and queasy after witnessing it and he was sure that he was in for a round himself, later tonight.

“Yeah, yeah, sounds good,” the man spoke with a croaking voice, rough and tired, used and though it was hard to speak at all. Bucky let a soft sigh through his lips and turned to eye Tony, who was drinking down his pint in one swallow, a challenge from the table over. He lightly shook his head and turned back to Steve.

“I’ll take him if you take Tony. No doubt he’ll be on his ass in a few minutes,” at that, the man snapped his eyes towards the one in question, groaning as if he had a child who’d done something stupid.

“Yeah, you take Sam. Thanks, Buck,” Steve had sighed again, standing up from his crouched position before gently patting Sam's’ shoulder and headed towards Tony, his strut almost parental. A disappointed father about to scold his son, which was what he could see in that stride. Steve Rogers, always the mother-hen.

In all honesty, Bucky thought that Steve would make a great parent one day, if it ever came around.

“C’mon, let’s get you out of here,” he said calmly and quietly, even when drunk himself, and reached around to slip the man's’ arm over his shoulders, lifting him rather easily with his groggy help. He directed them towards the stairs and was careful not to run into anything or anyone on the way. They took their time climbing one of the staircases, Sam using his free hand on the banister and trying to help lessen the weight as much as possible. Both of them being drunk and trying to walk up the steps wasn’t the best idea ever, not currently.

But once they made it up, Sam stopped and leaned back against the railing, stable with his back to the wooden pillar behind him. He took a breath and slowly ran his hands over his face, easing himself from what Bucky would assume was a nauseous feeling. And now that he was standing still, he could see that he was swaying, back and forth side to side, subconsciously trying to keep his balance while trying to focus on helping his friend.

But again, his attention was thrown from him.

A man threw himself into the tavern, pressed against the wall and looking ill, almost as sick as Sam. He was wheezing, panting and out of breath, fear clear on his face and he swayed into the room in his cloak and dirty rags he’d call clothes. He looked a mess.

“She killed ‘em,” he was unfocused as he walked further in, stepping dangerously close to them for a moment before heading in the other direction of the room, towards the mass of people sitting at their tables. “She killed ‘em all,”

“Who killed what?” Bucky turned his gaze to Gretel, the woman of the siblings, and a quick glance to her side, showed Hansel sitting with his drink in hand, his gaze on the man who was frantic and still panting harshly.

“The witch,” he replied without a doubt, fast to respond with no second guessing what had happened. It drew gasps and whispers from the people in the room, words and hushed conversations breaking out. “She killed the trackers, all of them,” he started wheezing harder. “She gave me… a message,” he choked, shaking on the spot. “For you all,” he gagged, gurgling noises leaving him while he choked through a closed mouth, as if he was about to throw up. He looked like he was about to explo-

He was suddenly hit with wetness and a few solid things, his brain, mouth and body not having the time to catch up to what had just happened, and Sam was throwing up again, turned away with his back to Bucky. He eyed him and then turned his gaze back to the… pieces of a body scattered in the area where he’d been standing and then around the room.

“The curse of hunger for crawling things,” Bucky turned his eyes on her again, seeing the casual movements of pulling an organ or entrails from her shirt. “Fucking hate that one,” Hansel wasn’t even touched, a boy holding a large book standing between him and the explosion. He knew the boy, a local, rather obsessed with the idea of witch hunting like Hansel and Gretel. It was easy to see why he was there with them. Either he’d shifted back against the hunter, or Hansel had pulled him back to avoid the gore, the latter seeming a bit more believable considering who they were and how long they’d been fighting witches.

He caught his eye, Bucky noting that he was looking at him above his pint of ale. His brows were raised and he raised his own for a moment, gazing back at him. There was that flutter again and he tried to ignore it in favour of grimly looking down at himself, his own clothes covered in red with a small chunk of somethings littering him. He really hoped that it hadn’t the guy and then he went about checking on Sam. He only glanced back at the hunter again before lifting his friend up, his arm back over his shoulders with the man groaning, head lolled down and hanging and he was even laxer than before, faintly heavier from how weak he was at that point.

Bucky directed them towards the tavern doors and threw one last look over his shoulder, seeing that he was still being watched by the man still drinking his ale casually, as if none of what had just happened, happened.

He was odd, made Bucky think differently, and even made him _feel_ differently. The warm butterflies in his chest were a very new things, something he hadn’t felt up until now, and he made him feel slightly nervous, self-conscious, though not like he was self-conscious of appearance. It was more… of how he acted. He was never the kind of person to stare or gaze, but this man changed that. Bucky stared and gazed every time he was there. The stage, in the underground level of the tavern, and now.

He was self-conscious of the fact that his gaze lingered longer on Hansel than anyone or anything since he saw him earlier in the day.

“Let me know if you need to throw up again,” Bucky mentioned as they walked up the few steps and left through the open doors into the cold late evening air.

\----------

The next day, he was met with a bright sun, warmth heating up the town under the rays and Bucky let a content sigh leave his lips as he eyed over some carrots and veggies that he knew Steve would need for dinner. He couldn’t go buy things himself, he hadn’t had the time since taking extra shifts, so Bucky used his spare time doing it for him. And if he couldn’t, Sam would.

The market was buzzing, filled with people and a few animals crossing his path. He paid for the food and turned away, heading further into the lane when he saw him. Hansel, standing by a clothes merchant, a childrens clothes merchant. He eyed him oddly, curiously. He was obviously busy, though it was still a wonder why he was there. Bucky knew not to meddle, knew not to interrupt a busy man or get into the business and pry. But… again, it was Hansel, one of the two that saved him and one of the two hunters that made his chest flutter with heated warmth that made him all too curious for his own good.

He lightly shook his head and swallowed thickly, forcing down his mildly shaken nerve before stepping closer.

“What’d you think? Boy? Girl?” he heard him ask the merchant, who only nodded dimly at both. “Okay,” he then gave the dress back, giving one last glance over the boys clothes before starting to roll it up. “I’ll take this,” he bagged the garments away and handed the man his money, the merchant going through to give him his change and Bucky decided not linger to linger behind. He stepped up to Hansel’s side, catching the merchant’s eye for a moment before eyeing the hunter again.

“Doubt they’ll fit you,” he spoke loud enough for the hunter to turn and stare back at him, stunned for a moment before a casual smirk appeared on his lips, curving his mouth again like before, on the stage.

“Uh, hello,” Hansel reached out and took his change from the merchant, eyeing his bag once done and looking back up at him before righting it on his shoulder. “No, this is-uh, this-,” he gestured towards the hanging carrier. “It’s not for me,” and silence grew between them, conversation dying right there. He cleared his throat and thought about the questions that were brought to mind back at the tavern, the fuzzy thoughts before they’d started drinking and getting completely drunk.

“So, uh… how’s the witch hunting coming along?” that was all he could say? Really?

“It’s good, witch hunting’s good,” Hansel replied curtly and short, ducking to the side and away from the stall. He lingered for a few seconds before following after, a hay-bag hanging from his shirt covered, metal shoulder, filled with veggies, fruit and thick bread. He caught up easily and walked at his side for a moment, glancing at people as they walked passed and kids played, dogs barking and farm animals skittering about.

“It’s uh… sort of weird being here,” Bucky commented off-hand, not really thinking of what he’d said before it came out.

“Yeah?” he glanced over, seeing the unwavering gaze on him as they walked and that had been when he’d realized that he’d said it outloud, the thought having been voiced and he gave a short, low nodded, watching the hunter intently.

“Yeah. If you hadn’t shown up when you did, I’d be a pile of ashes right now. Regardless of the difference in gender between me and a witch,” he lightly shook his head again, still finding it stupidly unbelievable that they thought that he’d been a witch. No male could be one and yet the Sheriff forcibly trailed him anyway.

“Yeah, well… if you were a woman, I probably would’ve let them burn you, but I’m old fashioned that way. My sister, however, requires a bit more evidence before someone gets roasted,” thankfully, he wasn’t female and he was thankful that he wasn’t a witch either.

Bucky stopped at his side when the man decided to pause at the pumpkin stand, eyeing over the orange orbs and off-balanced spheres. He turned them in his hands, his focus completely on the one currently being held when a thought came to mind.

“Have you ever come across a town accusing and actually burning a man?”

“Nope, never. It’s one of the reasons we took the job. The Sheriff went to such lengths as accusing someone who clearly couldn’t be a witch and was adamant on burning you,” he paused and turned towards him, pumpkin still in hand. “Probably because of that,” Hansel then gestured towards his arm. “Men fear what they can’t explain, and I’m sure that no one but you can explain how that thing works and how it’s attached,” the hunter stared, and Bucky was sure that he noticed the gradual drop in his emotions at the thought, his expression growing dejectedly and negatively.

“Fear drives us to do stupid things,” Hansel added with a bit of a tilt in his head, catching his eyes again and he almost jumped in surprise when a fast ticking sound broke their gazes, snapping Bucky from the soft, warm eyes. “Can you hold this?” he was then handed the pumpkin and the hunter strode passed him in a rush. Bucky quickly paid for the big, orange vegetable… fruit? Was it a vegetable or fruit? Either way, he paid quickly and strode after him, following him into the lane where he saw him hunched over, his gun at his side and he was half sitting, half doubled over.

“Hey, are you alright?” Bucky caught up fast, stopping just next to him with his free hand reaching out for the man's’ broad shoulder. He ignored the continuous flutter hitting him again and focused on him, watching as he pulled himself to sit up right, hands reaching into his leg satchel for something.

“Ye-yeah,” Hansel and stuttered and looked up at him, taking a quick glance and Bucky reluctantly pulled his hand back, shifting so he was standing straight with the pumpkin resting on his hip, which was slightly cocked. “When I was a kid,” the man started, catching his focus further. “A witch made me eat so much candy I got sick. Something happened to me,” he watched as Hansel pulled out a syringe, a big metal needle with a pressure place on the other end, opposite to the spike. A thumb press. “Have to take this injection every few hours, or else, I die,” he then stabbed it into his leg with a grunt and casually just pressed the metal pressure point down, injecting himself so easily. He’d heard of this, from Steve. He’d worked medically for some time, gained some knowledge on their travel to this town. Bucky had learned a thing or two, contrary to what his friends would say.

“You’ve got the sugar-sickness?” he questioned him, watching the life returning to his movements and features in a matter of seconds. It brought heat to his being at seeing him lively again, shifting to stand before sorting himself out and packing up his things. He’d assume that this was his cue to leave, he still had to drop the food off at his and Steve’s home before cleaning up the dishes and living area for when Tony and Sam come around.

“If that’s what they’re calling it,” Hansel righted himself, seeming back to himself like, before the sickness attacked. But now that it was over, and the man seemed completely fine again...

“It was really good talking to you,” he spoke softly, eyeing the man's features as he handed the pumpkin over and then righted his own bag over his shoulder, having felt it slipping over the shirted metal arm.

“Yeah,” Bucky let a smile curve his lips, a small, polite one and he bit at the inside.

“You’re incredibly handsome,” he spoke with some confidence, to which instantly wavered when Hansel’s browline raised high, a faint note of a smile on his own lips, but he seemed instantly stunned by his words, which made his confidence falter and he immediately shook his head. “I mean… you’re a gifted man in appearance, handsome, strong and-...” he was failing horribly... “I’m just going to...” Bucky gestured over his shoulder and hadn’t waited for any kind of response as he darted out of the lane and headed up the market, towards the building that he called home with his friend, his brother in everything but blood.

\----------

“They really brought a witch back with them?” he could hear Sam question Tony incredulously. Bucky hadn’t been listening to everything, too caught up in his own thoughts on his earlier self-embarrassment in front of Hansel of all people. ‘ _You’re incredibly handsome_ ’, what did he expect to get out of that, really.

“Buck?” at his name being called, he glanced up and over at Steve as the other two continued talking. He was giving him a concerned expression and Bucky only sent a smile his way, a reassurance that he was fine, even though he was sure that it could be seen through.

“I’m fine, really,” he said as a bit more of an affirmation as he stood up and took the emptied plates and headed over to the sink. He rinsed them off and wiped them down, stacking them and them placing them inside the sink to clean them a little later, once the other two had left.

“Really,” his tone was disbelieving and Bucky should’ve seen the questioned upon questions circulating. He could feel them against his back. The man turned around and leaned back against the counter, arms crossing almost defensively over his chest and he eyed the other man, trying to keep his feigned smile up.

“Yeah,” he shrugged casually. “I’m good, Steve,” Bucky glanced towards the window, avoiding the knowing eyes already figuring him out. He sometimes hated that Steve knew him so well, better than himself, to know when something wasn’t right, to know when something was clearly off and he knew that he’d never say a word unless absolutely necessary.

“Like I’ll believe that,” the man in question spoke, as if on cue with his thoughts. Bucky turned to look at him as his chair screeched against the wooden floor before he stood completely, stepping his way with a knitted brow, yet he had a faint ghost of a soft smile edging his features. “C’mon, tell me what’s wrong,” he requested as he got close, shifting to lean against the countertop next to him.

“There’s nothi-,” Bucky had began to huff, exasperated by his attempts, but he immediately cut him off, already knowing that he’d try to evade this conversation all together.

“You’re not a good liar,” it was what he did. He ran from a problem, anything that made him the slightest bit frustrated or nervous. Like earlier with Hansel, and now with Steve attempting to find out why he was so frantic.

“I hate you,” he finally huffed a lie and dropped his gaze to the floorboards, looking between each of the splintered planks below and between his boots.

“Hate you, too,” an obvious lie. There was no doubt that Steve loved him too much. He couldn’t hate him, it was impossible. “Now spill,” he pointedly stared at him, his gaze almost penetrating and like a parent. He was in the same position as Tony the night before, when there’d been too much drinking and he could feel the ‘ _tell me or you’re grounded_ ’ atmosphere around him.

Bucky huffed again, blinking fast a few times before turning his eyes up at him completely, tired and exasperated as before. He lightly shook his head and sighed through his nose, arms still crossed. “... Hansel,”

“Hansel?” Steve frowned at him, seeming to be in thought for a moment before his browline rose. “The hunter that’s in town?” he tilted his head slightly, as if curious _and_ suspicious.

He sniffed in through his nose and swallowed thickly, his gaze faltering and he looked back down between his boots. “I’m not a hundred percent sure, but I think I really… _like_ him,” he finished the sentence off softly, the two simple words warming his chest again, with heat gradually rising

“You sure it’s not just you being really thankful towards your knight in shining armour?” he could hear the amusement. His tone was between that and serious, like he didn’t know whether he should make this conversation humorous or be completely serious about the situation.

“I’m not some dame in distress, Steve,” Bucky would admit that it had been hard to keep the soft laugh in, finding that Steve was actually halfway amused by his _suffering_. He’d changed some over the last few years. Instead of lingering on the thought, he breathed and turned towards him, hip pressing against the counter as he was completely facing the other man.

“I get the hot butterflies in my chest when we’re together and talking, and even when I’m thinking about him. I get distracted and I stare at him and he always catches me looking, but doesn’t say anything,” it was really a wonder of _why_. Why was it that he never complained or said a word about his obvious staring and gawking? And what he’d said earlier! He wouldn’t be surprised if Hansel avoided him after all this. “...And I said that he was handsome earlier, right to him-, god, he probably thinks I’m crazy or a stalker or somethin-,” he whined quietly, his flesh hand reaching up to run over his face and pinch at the inside corners of his eyes.

“Hey, calm,” a hand clapping his shoulder forced him to pull his hand away from his face and he stared, a pout crossing his features. He’d adamantly deny that he was pouting if asked. “Want me to talk to hi-,” _Not happening!_

“No!” he responded a bit too quickly, noting the mild stun crossing his best friend's face for a moment. Bucky bit the inside of his lip and cleared his throat, arms tightening over his chest. “I don’t need anyone stepping in for me, especially with this,” he pointed between them, towards the floor as if to emphasize the point. “I’ll just… be polite until he and his sister leave,” he nodded like it was a good plan. Obviously not. It was rather useless really, knowing himself and how small this town actually was. He’d run into him again, and Bucky would shell up, maybe turn and leave or embarrass himself again.

“Really going to ignore your problems?” it was Steve’s turn to cross his arms, watching almost disappointedly and the look could harm. The expression he used always made it so no one could refuse whatever they were there for. Tony had been subjected to it many atime, Bucky as well and the look always won over their resolve.

“Yeah. I can’t exactly talk to him again after embarrassing myself like that,” he meant it very literally. He wouldn’t be able to speak without stuttering or maybe worsening the embarrassment he put upon himself. It would be useless to speak with him again.

“Tell you what,” Steve smiled at him, his disappointed expression dropping as he Bucky eyed him curiously. “Tomorrow, we go up to the big hot-spring outside of town and we go for a swim to relax. You really look like you nee-,”

Everything suddenly jolted and shook and he was instantly on his hands and knees, Steve, Sam and Tony having been floored too as he took a glance around. His ears were ringing, like an explosion blew up right near him. Bucky panted lightly and frantically eyed the room, noting the flashing reds and oranges outside of the windows on the other end of the room. It was right outside the building, close, it seemed as his attention was caught by the few pieces of hanging wood and planks near that general area. They’d been thrown by the force and he suddenly caught the sounds of screams outside, woman and men yelling for help.

Bucky moved swiftly, ignoring the mild ache from the blast that shook the town and them to the floor. He stood and rushed towards the door, Steve calling his name as he followed, Tony and Sam right behind them as he ran out of the house and paused at the sight of the flaming building across the way. His eyes were wide, mouth agape.

“Steve, you and Bucky go help the townsfolk. Sam and I will get more water!” even with how struck he was, an order from Tony was something not meant to be brushed off lightly, so as soon as he’d registered what was said, he rushed towards where the man had gestured with Steve tailing him.

“Help! Heeelp!” he swung his head in the direction of the yelling and ran, sprinting as fast as he could to an out of the way shed, just behind one of the burning houses. The roof had collapsed, an elderly man under it and stuck. He darted in.

“Steve! Here!” Bucky called, already reaching his hands under the wood and using a fair amount of strength to try and lift it. The second pair of hands that grabbed the other end of the wooden roof was appreciated, his friend next to him and give the order to lift on three. A few more hands joined in to help, aiding them in lifting it and the man was being carefully dragged out, groaning from obvious pain of having a roof land on him.

As soon as he was pulled from the wreckage, they let go of it, letting it drop to the ground with a broken crash. The man was pulled further away from the damage and fires, being taken to safety along with others. He and Steve helped a few people with the fire, Bucky finding a wondering child, crying for his parent and Steve directed him towards where the woman had been screaming for him around the corner. He took the boy to her.

By the time of the light dawned on Augsburg, the sunrise that really and truly showed the mess and damage of the town, a few more of the elderly were hurt and limping and Bucky took it upon himself to offer them refuge in their home, letting them rest after watching their homes burned. He and Steve were tending to a handful of them, helping and fetching them whatever they needed. There were three children there as well, one parent there to watch them. Steve took a majority of his time with them while Bucky aided the old and weak.

And by early morning, a few had limped away to find their family, giving thanks to them and showing that they really appreciated what they’d done for them.

“Guys, the mayor's here,” Tony stuck his head into the room not two seconds later, his words fast and rushed and then he’d disappeared again. At that, the entire room dispersed, heading towards the door and leaving in the direction of where the Stark had left. Bucky and Steve followed close behind, jogging the corners and rounding alleys until they reached the main centre of town, Tony’s words being confirmed as they saw him trying to hush the crowd. Though it seemed that Berringer, the Sheriff, had a different agenda.

“Look! What his witch hunters have brought to Augsburg,” they stopped after reaching the crowd, rounding a few people to reach the front line. The house behind them was completely in tatters, burned to nothing but black wood and ashes. “Seven people burnt to death in the fire and another young, innocent child, taken. Because of those witch hunters,” the Sheriff spat angrily, and then paused for a moment before lifting his hand and pointing at the mayor. “No, because… of you. And you! Witch!” Berringer then threw his finger towards him, directing the anger easily onto a man who’d done nothing. Steve protectively stepped forward and inched his way between them, so Bucky could only see him from over his shoulder. Tony had done the same, but stuck behind him, slightly to the side. “I say, bring them all to justice,” he suddenly yelled out, getting cheers and praises, like back on the stage and he felt a spark of fear hit him when a few people actually turned to him. The fear hit him hard and the only thought he had at that moment… was run.

“Bucky!” he heard his name being called as he dashed around the corner, leaving the crowd behind him.

\----------

He sniffed irritably as he vaulted over a thick fallen log, landing perfectly before continuing his trek up the sloped hill. Bucky was heading for the magic hot-spring pond, the one that Steve had talked about the night before, about relaxing his nerves and taking his time to forget the whole ordeal he’d been through. It was a good idea and he was doing just that. Hopefully Steve remembered what he’d said and he’d find him later that day at the magic pond.

A stick broke beneath his boot, Bucky continuing to walk as if he hadn’t and he passed over the bump of the hill, stepping down over the thinly handmade path that led to the waters. It was about half a mile now, in the direction he was headed.

He huffed and almost tripped, having seen the large handgun just as his boot kicked it and he skipped over the weapon, stopping to turn around and stare for a few moments. That was Hansel's... right? The design and shape resembled the one he held in his thick, leather thigh holster. He eyed it with a frown, tilting his head as he stepped towards it and crouched, his gloved metal hand reaching out and picking it up carefully. He turned it in his hold, examining its soft carved design along the barrel and handle, a beautiful pattern, elegant and yet, sharp.

Bucky stood with it still in his hand and he swiftly glanced around, his eyes darting all over the area. Hansel’s gun was there, he couldn’t have just dropped it so obliviously. He was sure that he kept his weapons in check and took careful stock of them throughout the day. He had no doubt of that.

He turned his gaze up at the trees, looking over them and then seeing something. A black figure hanging. Bucky quickly darted into a jog towards the tree, careful of rabbit holes, stones and branches as he made his way there. He stopped along the path, staring up at the man that was definitely Hansel hanging upside down, unconscious with red on his face.

“Hansel?” he called loudly, not getting any response. He didn’t plan on climbing the tree, so waiting would be his only option if the man didn’t reply at all. “Hansel!” Bucky called a little louder, noting the hitch of an inhale of air. His eyes seemed to inch open and he looked more than a little disoriented. Probably from hanging upside down. “Hansel, you alright?”

He watched as he took a sudden glance around, his head turning slower as he seemed to register where he was and how he was there, or maybe he’d noticed that he was hanging from a tree. “Oh… sshit,” he muttered groggily and then looked down at him… up at him?

“I-uh… found your gun,” Bucky held the weapon out, tilting it in his grasp. What had he said before about engaging the man in conversation? That he wouldn’t. Though, this was a very different and not exactly a good situation. He could break his self-inflicted rule for a few minutes to help him out of a tree.

“Ye-thanks,” Hansel strained while upside down. He tried lifting himself, doubling his body up to try and reach for the veins holding him to the large branch. He tried again, Bucky feeling the slightly fond amusement of watching him. His grim mood from before had dwindled at just watching him up in the trees. “Uh, hey-uh… say,” Hansel dropped, halting his attempts to look at him from his precarious position. “Can you- can you tell which way’s back to town?” Bucky raised a brow at the man and then turned his head in the direction he came from, his free hand lifting to point.

“That way,” he replied, glancing back up at him.

“That way,” the hunter repeated both vocally and physically by pointing as he’d reiterated him, looking and that way for a moment before turning back. “Okay…” he nodded softly. “Thank you. Thanks,” he then went back to trying to untangle the veins, not being able to because of the lack of having the length and bend in him. He tried lifting himself again and again, not being able to reach at all.

“You’re welcome,” Bucky muttered more to himself than to the hunter, still watching from his place on the ground. He couldn’t help the growing enjoyment in watching his attempts. It was entertaining and he had a smirk crossing his lips, gradually widening into a smile. The happiness was bringing life to him and the humour brought out a chuckle. “Need some help, mighty witch hunter?” he teased lightly, actually shifting back and leaning against one of the trees closest to him, arms crossing with the weapon still in hand.

“No, I’m fine,” was he smirking? It was hard to tell from how he was hanging, but it seemed like he had a faint turn up in the corners of his lips. “I’m fine, thank you,” he gave him a thumbs up, seeming all too casual for a man in his situation. “Okay, see you later,” Hansel lifted himself again, struggling harder with the veins and cursing under his breath while shaking himself in the tree, forcing himself to lift higher until- “Mother fuck- _Aaahh!_ ,” he fell, fast and hard and hit every branch on his way down. It was only when he’d hit the ground hard with a spine chilling thump that Bucky threw himself from the tree, tucking the gun into his back trousers as he raced over and turned him over, slinging his arm of his shoulders before lifting him up.

\----------

“Are you done yet?” Hansel questioned him deeply as he squeezed some of the water out of his napkin. “I’ve gotta get to my sister,” he added. Bucky inched back over and gently reached his flesh hand up to his warm, smooth neck without thought, taking a soft grip to keep him still as he used his metal hand, holding the cloth, to carefully wipe away the grime and blood. It was bizarre on how careful he could actually be with the hand, and it was even crazier that Hansel hadn’t even flinched as he reached it in before cleaning his skin with it.

It gave him confidence, which was rare to him. Though the very shirtless Hansel was making it hard for him to take in the boosts of confidence. It was distracting.

“I’m not a miracle worker, so it may take a while,” he shrugged, shifting the cloth in hand for a clean area to wipe down more dirt. “But these need to be cleaned or you’ll get a fever,” Bucky tilted his hand and hand just a bit to clear the blood running down between his eye and the bridge of his nose, dripping lower to halt at his upper lip. He’d cleaned away a majority, and then returned to the water, rubbing the dirt and red from his thick cloth before turning around again.

“Fever…” Hansel had scoff humourlessly, as if not bothered by the prospect at all. Bucky reached forward again, his hand reaching for his neck once more, and he’d caught himself this time, just as he rested his warm hand on the back of his nape and held there loosely, feeling the smooth skin and the brush of his short hairline. He eyed the man, glancing over his calm features as he calmly reached his hand in again to wipe up more of the grit left on him, and the thin layer blood that was still there.

“Must’ve been quite a fight. You look like shit,” he commented without really thinking, continuing to clean even when he’d slightly stiffened after registering what he’d said. He’d found out about the witches from an elderly couple late last night, while he and Steve had been housing them. The old woman had seen a dark red haired one, an ugly woman with a stick in hand and a dark dress.

“Not what you said the other day,” and that had caught him slightly off guard, causing him to pause and then clear his throat awkwardly before continuing where he’d been cleaning the dirt from his neck and shoulder. Hansel had done the same, clearing his throat for a moment before adding. “I think the real damage was to my dignity, which I left somewhere in that tree back there,” Hansel joked dryly, causing a smile to grace Bucky’s lips as he let a light, soft laugh leave him. He glanced over to the hunter, catching his scoff, a grin curving into his own lips and he’d caught his eyes. Their gazes locked and his smile just seemed to grow that little bit, warmth spreading through his chest and the fluttering felt stronger, as if the butterflies multiplied.

They reluctantly turned away almost in unison, Bucky having dropped his first to rinse the cloth, a sudden thought coming to mind as he stared into his reflexion in the sun graced water. He bit the inside of his lip, swallowing before deciding to give the thought a shot. Bucky lifted up, leaning his metal elbow on his bent knee as he casually looked over his shoulder, towards the man.

“Think it’d be easier if you just get in,” he turned his body gradually, half facing him and the water. A thoughtful expression crossed the man’s features and then he shook his head.

“Oh, no, no, no, I can’t,” Hansel turned to him, still gradually shaking his head. Bucky gave a shrug and shifted to wet the cloth again, ready for if he really didn’t want to. He had an idea or two that had a chance of working, but if the man was adamant...

“It’s not healing water or anything, but hot water sterilizes wounds,” he explained simply, turning back around to gently run the warm fabric over the crook of his neck, over the cuts that were red and still healing. “It’s a hot-spring,” he added, stroking the cloth over the upper half of his chest.

“Yeah, I don’t swim well,” he shook his head again, eyeing him and Bucky could feel the soft gaze. He paused and looked up at him, eyes locking again as he sat back slightly with his elbow sitting on his knee once more.

“Then…” a smile gracing his lips again. “I’ll go in with you,” he’d been planning on going in either way, so it didn’t matter unless Hansel would join him. He really wished he would though. Bucky pushed himself to stand, dropping the wet clothes on the mossy stone aside the hunter and he reached into his pocket, drawing out a banded lace. He quickly tied his hair into a tail and took a deep breath before unbuttoning his white, sleeved shirt. He hadn’t pulled it off, only undone it all the way down. His shoes came off and he started unlacing his fly.

“Ah, okay,” Hansel grunted and forced himself to stand. Bucky thought nothing of it as he hissed and stepped away, moving behind him and over to where their things sat in the soft grass. Once he’d unlaced himself, he dragged the leather down his legs and stepped out of them, his legs from his upper thighs and down now completely bare of anything. His shirt was long enough to just cover his rear. “ _Hoo boy,_ ” he’d caught the whisper. It didn’t sound as if he disliked it, which he was thankful for.

Now was the slightly hard part...

Bucky slipped his flesh arm out of the sleeve, finding it easy as it swung behind him and revealed his entire right side, from neck to… _everything_ below, but the left… his metal arm. He lingered, hesitant with his right hand holding the materiel to the solid shoulder. His scars were horrific and the only other person that had seen them was Steve, and only Steve. Not even Sam and Tony had seen them. What would Hansel think at seeing them? The thought was terrifying...

He... he shouldn’t be thinking that way, it’d only depress him. That was what Steve usually said, and he was sure that he’d be telling him the same in this situation. Thinking of the arm as a hindrance or a disability wasn’t something he should’ve been thinking. A blank thought crossed his mind, a thought that was fast, blunt, uncaring. _‘fuck-it’_. He took another longer breath in as his hand began pulling the shirt from his shoulder and down his bicep, from there, it slipped from his arm and all that was left was the glove, to which was pulled off in one simple tug.

He was bare, completely nude. As naked as the day he was born.

He stayed there for a moment, unmoving with his eyes shut, a faint fear lacing him. Bucky swallowed thickly and took a step forward, planning on taking that relaxing bathe he’d been planning, with his plus-one hopefully.

Bucky stepped to the edge of the grass, dipping his foot in, and then the other, gradually inching in further and down the slope beneath the water, the heated pond warming him in seconds of getting deeper and deeper. Once he was about hip deep, he paused, already catching the metallic tweaking of the plates of his arm sealing shut once the water made the tiniest bit of contact. His fingers danced over the surface, shaping the water and sending tiny waves around his front and sides.

“So it’s… it’ll help, did you say?” Bucky lifted his eyes and glanced over his metal shoulder with an almost purely innocent expression on his face, nodding subtly at him as affirmation. “Okay… uh,” he watched the man eye his own shirt and then drop it, hesitating for a moment before slipping his boots of while simultaneously unbelting his trousers. Hansel avoided his eyes, keeping them downcast while he stripped and then slid them down his thighs and further until he could step out of them, now completely bare as well, and he still avoided looking him in the eyes. The hunter cleared his throat and inched forward, Bucky taking the short time to innocently glance away, though it was to hide his ‘ _not so innocent_ ’ smile, as he stepped over to the other end of the hot-spring, turning so his back was towards it and sitting on the ledge that jutted out under the heated water. He took a seat and watched the surface dance as Hansel took the first step in. Though it wasn’t in the same place as Bucky had entered and he stepped into a slightly deeper area, the water instantly rising to about mid-thigh. He was forced to step in with the other to keep balance and quickly slipped to sit, the water rocking them both and the hunters arms flailed slightly before he spun to catch the shrubbery around the outter edge of the pond.

Bucky hid his smile, biting at the insides of his lower lip to keep from showing how entertained he currently was. Though it was a fight when the man glanced over his shoulder and took a breath.

“I got it,” he muttered more to himself and he couldn’t hold it much longer, his lips curving at the corners and pulling a genuine, wide smile across his features. One graced Hansel's lips as well and he’d scoffed lightly, glancing around a little to obviously avoid too much eye contact while both were completely nude. He could tell that the man was the type. Bucky only gazed, watching him with amusement and interest as he sat against the low rock behind him, water warming him from his biceps and down. His shoulders were above, feeling the cool air only on the one.

“You know, the last time I was in waters like this,” Hansel started, catching Bucky’s attention as he sat still, water still rocking lightly against him as the hunter waded and treaded the surface. “I came across a formidable serpent witch,” he glanced over to Bucky for a moment before eyeing the waters and turning gradually, as if surveying the area. He watched him with growing interest, his mind stuck between wanting to hear more of the adventure and wanting to hold him, or be _held by him_ , if he was being a little more specific. “She looked like a toad, and she could breathe under water, making her difficult to track,” Bucky smiled to himself as edged off of the rock, slipping deeper into the water as he took gradual steps towards the centre. The water was actually up to his shoulders as he stood there, straight with only the front pads of his feet touching the smooth ground. “She was deadly,” he inched closer, gently striding under the water towards him, arms giving him a smooth paddle, not really disrupting the water's surface while stepping into the rib-high shallows. Though he stayed about chest deep, bending his legs just a bit.

“Tell me more,” Bucky requested with a light smile and intrigue as he slowly swam up beside him, hand reaching out to hold the rocky edge of the ground rounding the pond as Hansel seemed to pause, searching him by the way he eyed him with a curious glint. They were fairly close at that point, Bucky having inched nearer until they were closer than full arms length.

“She dragged me under first, by my ankle,” he’d continued carefully, his tone the same pitch and he seemed intent on watching him now, gauging him as he treaded the waters right in front of him. “Couldn’t breathe,” he seemed to subconsciously inch closer, still eyeing him. He sounded almost distracted. “Everything got dark fast, with my lungs filling up with.. Water,” Bucky’s breathing started to get heavy as Hansel was mere inches from his face, and getting closer. He almost gasped when the hot hands ghosted over his hip and waist side. “Gretel stuck her with an arrow before…” the hunter trailed off, his voice softening, and he’d gravitated closer, the hands almost directing him closer and into Hansel’s body. “Before…” Bucky could feel the heat somehow rising further, if that was possible. His body was smouldering and the hands just seemed to make him melt in his light grip, even more so when his body pressed against the hunters, his back arching softly.

“Before what?” Bucky whispered against the man’s lips, feeling the low panting, puffs of warm air blanketing his mouth. The hands laced his waist and upper back, his own bracing themselves over his shoulders with one hand pressing gently against his chest. He’d been lifted a little, being sat onto his lap as Hansel turned and shifted back towards the smooth, rock bank wall.

“‘Nough talking,” Hansel replied just before leaning in the last inch or two to kiss him, his moist, hot lips pressing against his own and felt his heart hammer against his ribs, the flutter turning warm and spreading through his body at break-neck speed. His stomach had flipped happily as the man’s grip tightened and held him closer, now completely straddling the hunters’ waist as they kissed over and over. He refused to move his left hand, but his right was allowed to wander, his fingers ghosting down his pectoral and down his side, only to roam up again.

It was unbelievable, what they were doing, and it brought so much joy and excitement to him to have the hot hands over him, holding him close. The moist mouth pressing against, much like their bodies.

It was incredible.


	2. Part 2/2

“Following this road, you should make it back to Augsburg by nightfall,” Bucky gestured towards the road as he slipped on his hip-length sleeveless tunic over his white shirt. It looked very much like Hansel’s own, but a lighter shade of brown.

“Yeah, I hope so,” he heard the hunter respond while tying his belt in place. Bucky kept sending glances his way, a smile being permanent on his features after what they’d done. He’d tried toning it back and seeming casual about it, but he found it difficult and was now smiling widely, like a girl finally achieving her first kiss the boy she liked.

He laced himself up and tied his tunic shut, biting at his lip as a thought came to mind, one that seemed a little too much to be asking, but…

“When you find your sister…” he hesitated, wavering for just a moment before turning to gaze at the other man, just as he turned to look at him from belting his thigh satchel. “Would you come back to see me again?” he slipped on his gloves easily without really looking, noting the light scoff and smile tug at Hansel’s lips. He dropped his leg, having finished tying the leather around his thigh and grabbed his coat before turning and stepping closer, his free hand reaching out.

“Yes, of course,” the hunter smiled, causing one to grace his own lips as the man leaned in and took his mouth in a gentle kiss, softer and gentler than before.

\----------

“Drink,” he muttered softly, watching as the man swayed between unconscious and conscious. He’d been back and forth for the last hour, dazing in and out. He sighed as the hunter zoned out again, his head dropping to the side, gradually coming back again soon after. Bucky genuinely thought that there was something drawing Hansel and him together, some unknown force wanting them to stay with one another. A massive coincidence, which was how he saw it all. A coincidence so massive that he could compare it to Tony’s ego.

Bucky had been scavenging that morning, it was his turn to go and search for the needed herbs to heal and help the still wounded townsfolk, or the townsfolk that still considered him a good man and would actually speak with him like he was any other human. And while out in the forestry, he’d ventured a little further than normal, having come across this large, secluded land, a home, broken, old and worn down. Veins grew everywhere, the shrubbery having taken over. He’d been curious, so he’d entered with his guard high, being as careful as ever as he stepped inside of the building and eyed the spider-web covered ornaments and furniture.

He’d then came across the massive hole in the floorboards, thinking nothing of it as he stepped over, wary of how weak the boards around it must’ve been, and then he’d peered in. Bucky’s heart had gone cold when he’d seen Hansel at the bottom and he’d quickly climbed down to help him.

“Hansel, c’mon,” he tried again, gently tapping the side of his face and seeing his groggy twitch in response. His head tilted back to centre and he raised the bowl to his lips again. “Drink it, it’ll help with the pain,” and as soon as he seemed to open his mouth for whatever it was, his eyes gradually lifted, instantly widening the slapping the bowl from his grip, his wrist now in a tight hold.

He’d deny that he grunted in surprise when it happened so suddenly, the slight ache in his flash wrist sending faint shocks up his arm for a moment. Hansel seemed stunned, confused as he stared with wide eyes, watching him intently.

“Bucky?” Hansel questioned with still strong confusion. He then darted his gaze to the side, taking in the multiple bowls filled with odd coloured water and filled with a slightly thicker liquid. There were candles there as well, but they were put out when the light began to brighten the room early that morning.

He almost felt the coldness again when the hunter flicked his wrist away and stared at him in… distrust? Betrayal? He had no clue as to why though. What had he done to deserve that look?

“What d’you do?” the man asked with more betrayal, the tone cutting at his insides. Bucky stood and glanced to his bowls and melted herbs, eyeing them for a moment. It then clicked, puzzle pieces fixing together so easily.

“Men can’t be witches, your own words-,” he took a step forward, but paused when Hansel darted up to his feet and held out his hand, stopping him from getting any closer.

“Stay back,” Bucky huffed and shook his head.

“I’m not a witch, Hansel,” he knitted his brow and took a step back, noting the tension in the man’s body, his tight shoulders and wide eyes. He could really feel the cold shudder running up his spine at the sadness that grew from that distrusting gaze. “I used herbs, melted them down to create an ointment for your wound, and I watered down more to mix with Poppy-Milk to dull the pain,” he tried to explain as easily as he could. “Check your injury,” he whispered with a hurt tone, having tried to hide it, but failed.

And with a guarded expression, a quick second glance to make sure he stayed put, Hansel reached down and grabbed his shirt, lifting it to find the tied bandage-pad covering a dark smeared glue like substance over where he’d been stabbed. Bucky had tried his best, but Steve was the doctor, not him. He was merely an assistant when needed.

“I-uh…” the hunter started terrible. Bucky crossed his arms over his chest and looked away, finding the hurt and sad feeling in his chest spread just a bit. _He_ was the one that felt slightly betrayed at this point. Hansel had thought he’d done some type of sorcery, even though he’d said it himself, about men not having the ability of being a witch. It hurt that the distrust was instant, no second guessing that Bucky was a danger. “I’m sorry,” he spoke softly, quietly and with a saddened, apologetic tone.

He only shook his head lightly, keeping his gaze downcast as he avoided the hunters’ eyes. He could feel him gradually stepping towards him, seeing his boots coming into view with his arms hesitantly reached out, and once he was close enough, Hansel gently gripped him and held him, arms wrapped around his shoulders and biceps, arms still crossed. Bucky wouldn’t admit to relaxing instantly into the warmth, comfort having taken over almost immediately and he’d seeped in further, allowing himself to be held so easily in the hunters’ hold. He felt the hot puffs of breath against his temple, blanketing that half of his face and Bucky had gradually turned so they were forehead-to-forehead, facing each other, and he’d opened his eyes, not having realized he’d closed them.

“I’m sure I don’t know you as well as I should to be able to call you an idiot,” he mumbled, retaining his ‘ _almost_ ’ pout as the other man barked a laugh and grinned at him, his shoulders shaking lightly with the chuckling.

“I wouldn’t hold it against you even if you did,” the smile gradually dimmed to a thin line and he took a breath. “I really am sorry,” the hunters arms retracted until his hands were left on his shoulders, gripping and squeezing comfortingly on one. He couldn’t feel the other, but it hadn’t stopped him or scared him that his left shoulder hadn’t even moved, hadn’t budged at all.

“... Idiot,” he smirked faintly, noting the smile returning to Hansel’s lips before he gave him another reassuring squeeze and then patted him before stepping around him and striding across the room for his gear, the gear that Bucky had taken off to get at his wound.

“Where’re you going?” he questioned curiously, shifting to sit on one the empty rocks in the room, leaning back against it with crossed arms. He had full view of the room from there.

“They have my sister,” the hunter suddenly said rather grimly, his tone flattening as if realizing before speaking that this wasn’t the time to be infatuating or flirting or being even the slightest bit happy. And Bucky could understand why. The news shocked him, his spine freezing as he’d said it.

“Who has her?” he frowned, eyeing the man as he slipped on his dark, leather vest over his faded white shirt. Bandits? Witches? Thieves? The Sheriff? The man was crooked enough and he was aware that the man hated the hunters.

“The _Witches_ have my sister,” his blood ran colder for a moment and his heart sped up.

“Where?” Bucky questioned as Hansel tied the vest shut, belting the front and buttoning the top and bottom. He stepped from the rock and inched himself around it to fully face the man as he turned slightly away, as if guarding himself. Avoiding Bucky wouldn’t do. Worry was setting in and he didn’t like the thought that maybe he had a purpose to suddenly want to distance himself.

“They said something about a ritual, or gathering, or I don’t know,” and it then clicked. An image came to mind, maybe hundreds of witches gathered in one area. A suicide mission. Bucky’s breathing caught for a split-second, knowing that this might not end well, but he also knew that Hansel wouldn’t give up on his own sister. Bucky couldn’t make him choose, he would never force him too. It was unfair, cruel.

“I think I might know what you’re talking about,” he mentioned hesitantly, noting the way the man’s head snapped towards him. _Bucky would go with him. He could help, it’d be a lot easier, especially with his ability and what he’d found in this cave_.

“What?” the hunter questioned softly, his expression flat, but his eyes were wide and fully focused on him, staring like he was the only person or thing there.

“There’s this place,” he began hesitantly, making a subtle hand gesture. “-really deep into the forest. Steve and I came across it while hunting. It’s near the mountains and from what I could tell, it looked really… witch-y, I guess. A huge stone, symbols written all over it, a huge empty area in front of it. All in all, it looked like a type of stage,” he lightly shook his head and dropped his gaze, breathing in calmly as he glanced back up and saw the hunter turn towards him, vest tight in place and jacket in hand. He slipped on everything else that Bucky had taken off and all that was left was the heavy, leather he wore over everything.

“Where is it?” he took a step towards him, his tone almost commanding an answer out of him, but Bucky only swallowed, suddenly hesitant again. “Bucky, please. How do I get there,” Hansel reached out, dropping his jacket to grab his shoulders.

“I-, I…” he stuttered slightly, swallowing thickly as the man stared wide eyed at him.

“Bucky,” he shook him, his tone forceful and wavering, almost frantic.

“-I’ll take you there. I’m not letting you go alone,” Bucky rushed out, frowning and staring back with worry. When the hunter had called his name like that, it had snapped him from his fear, the stuttering and stunned state having worn of fast.

“What? No!” Hansel let go of him and reached down for his coat, still slightly shaken himself, with an open, wary and worried look crossing his face.

“Hansel-,” he reached out and grabbed the man’s shoulder as he turned and stepped away, forcing him back.

“No!” the hunter shrugged off his hand and stared him down, as if stating his dominance there and then, and that irritated him. Bucky scowled and reached out with his metal hand, grabbing him by the jacket he’d quickly slipped on in the paused moment and shoved him back against the wall with little effort.

“Listen!” he gritted his teeth, holding him to the wall easily with his left arm against his chest, hand fisting his collar. Hansel’s eyes were wide, stunned and surprised and he couldn’t struggle.  “This arm isn’t just some decorative trinket,” he gestured towards it. The position he held him in was too awkward to shift. “Whatever that deranged doctor did to me, it enhanced my metabolism. My strength and durability included,” Bucky eased his forearm back, allowing him the room to at least struggle, though he still couldn’t get out of the grip that held his jacket collar. “Don’t sit me down and tell me to stay, Hansel,” his voice softened. “Not when it’s _you_ that’s going out there to fight that many witches,” he loosened his grip, about to drop it when a hand reached up to grab it, holding it oddly like a man holding a woman’s, the back of his hand facing upwards.

Bucky gazed at his face, noting the faraway expression as if he was thinking deeply. He then suddenly curled the hand into his own and tugged him forward, so there almost chest to chest.

“Fine,” Hansel conceded reluctantly. “All that I ask is that you not haunt me if you end up dead,” there was no smile, but he could feel the faint humour in that sentence, only fractionally letting there be something funny in this situation.

“Deal,” Bucky let a smile grace his lips, reluctantly pulling back to return to the other end of the room. The thing he found was over there and now he’d be able to show Hanse- “Wait, wait,” he called over his shoulder as the man had been about to climb the steps to leave.

“What?” he paused, his tone exasperated as he turned back and saw him over where they’d been when the hunter first woke up. Or woke up and fell unconscious multiple times.

“While you were out, after I patched your wound. I snooped around, apologies,” his shrugged meekly, knitting both brows for a moment before reaching out with both hands and carefully grabbing the large, old book that had been hidden behind the rock he sat his bowls on. “I found this, a grimoire, a witch's book. There was a potion hidden in its pages, a slot was cut out and the vial was tucked into it,” Bucky carefully demonstrated and slipped out the vial, holding it so delicately in his flesh hand as he showed it to Hansel, who had only stepped a few paces in to stare at him.

“So?” the hunter shrugged, looking a lot more guarded than before, maybe because he was talking about sorcery, or holding something that belonged to one, or maybe the whole image of him holding it all was what made him like that. He’d only just accused him of being one again when he’d woken up.

“It blesses whatever it’s poured over, protecting it from dark magic,” Bucky explained, stepping forward to put the book on a nearby rock, putting the vial back safely before reaching down to clear his own things, covering the bowls that still had ointment in them and he easily slipped them into his bag without them leaking. Thankfully, he’d estimated the right amount of stuff he’d needed for Hansel, having used up almost all of it. The Poppy-Milk mix had been the only thing that he’d had that would’ve spilled, but the hunter had knocked that out of his hand earlier.

“Dark magic... And?” Bucky packed his things and slung his bag over his shoulder, stepping forward to close the book with the vial inside and he picked it up, holding it carefully and safely in his metal arm-

“It means their wands won’t work on you or the stuff it’s poured on,” he and Hansel both shot their gazes upwards, eyes landing on the boy that was half leaning over the edge of the hole, staring down at them with a childish beaming grin.

“Ben?” they’d both called in unison.

\----------

“Steve had you follow me?” Bucky questioned almost incredulously, his mind now reeling on the _why_ ’s and _what for_ ’s that his brain supplied. He was stunned that his brother _in everything but blood_ would have a kid follow him around because he’d been worried. He’d actually huffed in disbelief and crossed his arms, shaking his head lightly at the distrusted feeling that returned for the second time.

“Well yeah… even Mr Stark thought it was a good idea,” of course he would. He and Steve were close, closer than they used to be and he was sure that there was some kind of attraction there.

“Why?” he asked with a frown, his eyes fixed on the boys’ twitchy demeanour.

“Mr Rogers said that you were acting weird yesterday after you got back from the hot-spring. Said you were distracted and dazed, kept zoning out of reality,” that… sounded almost accurate to how he felt, now that he’d thought about it. He had been slightly off, distracted and even had to ask Steve what he’d said twice. So… yeah, he’d been zoning in and out.

“No, I wasn’t,” Bucky denied quickly and glanced away, his hearing catching the sound of a rolling wagon. He tried to listen harder, but then Ben continued.

“Mr Stark said, and I quote. ‘ _He was like a woman in love_ ’. I don’t really get how there’s even a comparison there. Because you’re a man, but-,” _Stop talking! Stop talking!_

“Enough! Just-... drop it,” he frowned at him, noting the way he deflated for a moment. Bucky had said it quietly, so Hansel wouldn’t hear, but it didn’t make him feel any less of a bad person to see the kid like that. He let a huff slip his lips and uncovered a book from his bag, pulling the cloth that had been concealing it away and carefully placed it on the table between them.

His face instantly lit up and he beamed a grin at Bucky before gently opening it, the vial sitting in there untouched. He knew he wouldn’t break it, the kid was too careful with this kind of stuff.

“This is the book of protection against black magic!” the boy seemed to instantly forget everything else as he eyed the book and then reached out for it, carefully fiddling with the frayed ends of pages before opening the thick wooded covering. “I can’t believe this! Where did you find it?” he beamed further and sent it towards Hansel as he rounded the corner. By the flat expression on his face, Bucky might’ve been safe and he’d heard nothing of what Ben had said. Nothing about Stark calling him a ‘ _woman in love_ ’ after the events at the hot-spring or Steve having the boy follow him around early this morning.

“Don’t ask, kid,” the other man replied as flatly as he seemed while starting to pull sacks of sand from the wagon. Bucky was curious, his questioning frown appearing as he turned to eye the man and then the wagon again. They were meant to be pouring the liquid over something, a weapon or maybe themselves, but with Hansel movements and actions seeming to have purpose, whatever was under the sacks and sheet was what was going to be blessed with this protection vial.

“If this works, we can beat them,” he commented offhand, still leaning idly against the table with the book sat upon it.

“Oh yeah?” Bucky glanced up to Hansel just as the man glanced back at him. The hunter seemed just as sceptical about this as he was.

“Like Ben said earlier. Their wands won’t hurt us. They won’t be able to protect themselves either,” he bullet-pointed, counting them off with his fingers even though he’d only names two pros to this plan. “We just need something to pour it over,” he’d finished with a shrug.

“A’right, let’s start with this,” as soon as the sentence left the hunters’ lips, he gripped the sheet in the wagon and tore it off, throwing it to the side to reveal the massive arsenal of weaponry. Guns upon guns and bullets littered the entire floor of the thing. It was incredible and he stared, eyes wide. Ben was the same and eventually, Bucky he managed to pull himself out of the daze to see Hansel’s wide grin, arms crossed as he stared at him.

He let a scoff slip his lips and turned around, opening the book and slipping his fingers inside to grab the vial. He held it carefully in his right hand and stepped forward, biting the inside of his lip before holding it out to the kid.  

“Want to do the honours?” he could see Hansel eyeing him suspiciously, but he was more than likely thanking that giving Ben the vial was irresponsible, something he shouldn’t have done. The man may know the boy, but Bucky knew him slightly better. He’d be incredibly careful and he knew this for the fact that it was magic, or related to it in a way.

“Can I?” the boy questioned, glancing between them like a child looking between his parents for confirmation. And he eventually got it when Bucky turned his gaze on Hansel, seeing the faintly exasperated shake of his head before nodding and waving his hand. The man strode off again, darting around the corner and Bucky then passed him the bottle, watching as he instantly got to work in covering everything with the surprising large amount of liquid for how small the bottle actually was. Ben poured it efficiently, covering everything, including the bullets beneath the weapons.

Once that was done, the kid paused, the bottle still in hand and he was eyeing it in mild confusion before turning his gaze towards Bucky on the other end of the wagon. “There’s some left over-,” he mentioned simply, almost dumbly, like he had no idea what to do with it. Just pour over the weapons agai-

“Your arm,” Bucky swung his head around as Hansel returned, two horses behind him on leads that he was directing towards them. He tied them loosely to a fence and stepped over, reaching for the vial and taking it before striding over to Bucky, who had a questioning frown on his brow.

“What?”

“Pour the rest over your arm,” … would it even work on his metal limb? It could easily be used as a weapon, but would the vial work and protect him against the witches? It was odd to actually imagine them casting a spell on him and his arm just negated it. Would pouring it on his arm protect all of him?

“I-,” he stuttered dumbly.

“C’mon, shirt off,” Hansel said as he put the vial on the table and reached out for Bucky’s leather vest, making short work of unlacing him and unbuttoning his shirt. It was when he’d been about to slip the sleeve from his shoulder when his hands swiftly raised and stopped him, his flesh hand stiff around the hunter’s wrist. They were in public, where anyone could walk by and see the mess that was his left arm, let alone them seeing the immense scarring of where it was permanently welded to his body. And Ben was there. He didn’t want to give the kid nightmares.

Bucky lifted his gaze to meet Hansel’s eyes, noting the earnest, sincere expression, so open and gentle, almost warm and comforting. And Bucky swallowed thickly, continuing to stare as the hands moved, even in his grip. The shirt slipped down his arm and he tensed, feeling it fall further until his arm straightened out for it to drop. Hansel slipped his glove off and tossed it to the table.

“This is nothing to be ashamed of,” he heard the hunter’s word being whispered to him, the metal hand being grasped gently as Hansel’s other hand reached for the vial, turning it upside down as he held it over the metal. The plates instantly slipped close at the sense of water and it sealed itself shut, not getting a drip inside. The whirring sound that left it echoed slightly in the shoulder, allowing him to hear it faintly. “Hope this works,” the hunter then commented after pouring the rest over his hand. The entirety of the metal was now drenched, from shoulder to fingertips and he could feel some of it over his scarred skin, around the rim of the melded metal.

Hansel leaned in for a quick peck on his head before stepping away towards the horses. Bucky could sense Ben’s eyes on him as he redressed, slipping the sleeve and vest back on easily before buttoning himself up and then tying the laces to hold the leather together. He was finished by the time the hunter returned with the horses and they went straight into gathering up the weapons, slipping them into places on their bodies. Thankfully, he’d been allowed to hide multiple on his person and hold Gretel’s crossbow, being requested not to use it and give it to her when she was freed. Bucky could do that, not a problem.

He mounted the horse easily, instantly getting comfortable before gently stroking its mane.

“Ever shoot a gun?” Bucky glanced up from petting the mare and watched as Hansel spoke with Ben, seeming to excite the boy slightly, giving him some hope by the glint in his eyes. He had a feeling he knew what was coming. The kid would be joining them if he impressed the hunter.

“I uh, I did win the county fair…” he remembered this. He hadn’t actually seen it for himself, but Sam and Steve had been impressed and excited and came home to talk lengths on how the kid managed to be an incredible shot. “Three times,” and he’d heard of that too.

“A’right, in that case...” Hansel trailed off, his hand reaching out to Ben and he dragged him up onto the horse, sitting him in the rear. “Don’t touch the gun,” he ordered as the boy had reached to do just that, and then turned to him, a curve in his lips. “Lead the way,”

\----------

“Hey, we good?” Hansel called over after tuning the threads tighter, holding it there. Bucky only glanced at him and held tight to his own side, keeping it still against the bark.

“Yeah,” he returned, both letting go simultaneously. They stayed strong, nothing breaking or loosening. The metal stayed perfectly tight and he could imagine what would be left if something were to slam against the trap. The image of himself covered in that mans blood from the tavern, the chunks of his body littering the ground and other people in the room. It was sickening and he was sure that this would have a very similar outcome.

“Well,” Hansel grunted, patting Ben’s chest before grabbing the weapons he’d taken off. He and the hunter had actually swapped ideas on the way there. He’d suggested that Bucky stay up top with a vantage point and the massive gun, taking the witches out from there. “S’far as you go, kid. But,” he paused, Bucky watching as he reached into his horse's saddle pocket, pulling out the oddly shaped device. “I’ll leave you with this,” said device suddenly flicked out violently and loudly clipped together to make a really, really long gun. A shotgun maybe? He wasn’t too sure. Hansel and Gretel’s weapons just seemed to get stranger the longer he hung around them.

“Wow,” Ben stared in awe, turning it in his grip and holding it almost correctly as he directed it around to get a full view of it.

“Find a place to hide, shoot anything that moves,” the hunter ordered casually as he stepped away to pack up for of his weaponry. Bucky did the same, grabbing the things that Hansel gave him. “Good luck,”

\----------

Bucky stared down into the mass of women screaming, yelling and cheering, intimidatingly snapping at the children as they were directed over to the cauldron by a… troll? He couldn’t remember hearing anything about there being a troll involved. And then there was Gretel, Hansel’s sister being chained to that massive rock he’d seen when he and Steve came upon this place ages ago.

“That’s a lot of witches,” the man muttered quietly, flatly, and Bucky turned to him just as he looked down into his bag and grabbed at his weapons, the guns and knives and whatever else he’d need. “Okay, I’m gonna go down around the other side, push them into the middle and get them away from the kids,” he explained calmly, curtly and slipped his main massive gun in hand at the ready. “A’right, you see my signal, you unleash hell,” he patted the huge gun sitting idly to the side and then grinned at him, reaching a hand up to grip the back of his head before leaning in for a quick peck on the lips. He was stunned for a moment that he hadn’t noticed Hansel stand and sneak a little further away. It was only when he’d said “Wish me luck,” that he’d snapped himself out of his dazed state.

“Whoa, wait,” the hunter did, pausing to turn back at him with raised brows. “What’s the signal?” Bucky questioned with a frown, eyeing him warily as he slipped his gun further up his shoulder.

“It’ll be me, blowing one of these bitch’s heads off,” he glared to the crowd seriously before giving him one last wink and then leaving quickly. He sat there for a moment, watching him as he snuck away, darting out of sight to get into position. Bucky shook his head and skulked over to the massive gun, setting it up fairly fast and easy after tinkering a little. The weapon was at the ready, as was he with a calm sigh through his nose.

He hadn’t need to wait long before he caught sight of Hansel striding through the forestry, gun hanging at his side, gradually raising it as he stepped out into the open and then let a shot off, startling everyone and gaining silence, even the lead, lady witch became quiet, watching him intently and angrily. Bucky could’ve easily imagined why, he assumed.

He took another breath, shaking his head lightly before reaching for his shirt sleeves, folding them up towards his elbows and then he stood, still hidden as he slipped into position behind the gun, hands gripping the levers, thumbs hovering over the triggers.

“Excuse me!” he still held his gun high. “Excuse me, lady?” did he… was he smiling? “It seems I’ve lost my invitation to your little dinner party here, I apologise,” Hansel let his gun drop to his side for a moment before lifting it and holding it with both hands, like one should. “But don’t worry,” he then aimed it into the crowd. “I didn’t come empty handed,” his features becoming solidly dangerous.

“Sisters,” the evil head of this crowd started calmly, everything still silent as she stepped closer to the edge of her stage. “Allow me to introduce you to the famous witch hunter, Hansel,” just the name seemed to cause a negative reaction, hisses and screams from these deranged and bizarre looking women. “Partly responsible for the deaths of over _six hundred,_ ” she yelled the words. “-of our kind,” the crowd grew rowdy, getting louder and louder.

“Listen to me carefully,” Hansel then called for attention, a majority quieting down to listen, which was somewhat surprising. “If you let my sister and the children go now, I’ll consider not killing _each_ and _every one_ of you,” everyone then erupted into laughter, the shrill and horrible noise bursting through his eardrums, making him wince.

“Enough!” the lead witch yelled, silencing everyone and then turned to gesture to one of the women closest to her, the younger one nodding and then scuttling down to the lower platform, a smirk on her face. Bucky had only just caught it as she stepped ahead of everyone and held out her wand. Nothing happened for a moment and then Hansel directed his weapon towards her, holding it steady. Another second or two passed and he pulled the trigger, taking her head clean off.

Bucky gaped for maybe less than that amount of time and charged the gun, hearing the high-pitch ‘ _whirr_ ’ and catching everyone’s attention before he pressed the triggers and let the bullets fly, aiming it perfectly into the crowd. The bodies were dropping fast, blood spraying. He notices one or two taking off on their boom and he aimed it towards them, taking them down easily and then directed it back to the centre. He noticed one heading straight for the kids and aimed it again, though she grabbed another person and held them as a shield. The body dropped and the gun suddenly jammed. His eyes widened and he hit it with his fist, reaching out to grip the thread wheel and turned it, to check if it was actually jammed. He hit it again and looked up just as a witch was about to reach him-

“Shit,” he hissed, blood suddenly spraying a minority of his face and his shirt and hands. “Again? Really?” Bucky scowled to himself and glanced down to see Hansel just turning his weapon away from his direction to take out another witch. He turned in time again to see the leader witch heading towards Gretel, the woman yelled and then Hansel did as well, but he’d fallen, one of the odder witches having caught his legs just as he leaped over a broken tree log and ran her way.

But then over on the other side of the platform, there were the kids, a witch dragging one forward with an axe in her hand. He swapped his gaze between just as the troll slammed the leader lady out of the way. He smiled for a moment, his mind made up. Bucky huffed and reached into the bag beside him, grabbing one of the other bigger guns, a sniper type weapon, and then aimed it carefully, the witch with the children in his sight. He pulled the trigger with ease and she then dropped to her knees, a hole leading straight through her chest.

He lifted his head and stared from his vantage point, taking a glance over at Hansel to see him grinning, a sending a thumbs up his way before strode over and almost grimly eased the weapon up to head height, taking hers as clean off as he did the first one. Gretel seemed to be safe, trying to get her chains off with the troll standing close.

Bucky flinched when the witch, the main evil one, he really couldn’t recall her name, suddenly got up and threw her wand in the trolls direction, a blue light casting itself around him and he was then flung aside. Bucky reached down again and huffed, grabbing the bag and Gretel’s bow before leaving the Hansel had before, keeping his pace fast as he headed down. He slipped around a few corners and came out near where Hansel had entered earlier.

“Gretel!” he called out, catching her eye and he then threw her the crossbow, watching as she caught it with ease before aiming it. He hadn’t stayed to watch, in favour of sprinting his way towards the strange conjoined witch that was fighting against Hansel, who'd been stabbed in the leg and was currently on the ground, shifting back away from the strange lady. Bucky stood and stood solidly straight, lifting the large sniper gun up before taking perfect aim and taking a headshot, but the other head saw him and they’d ducked. He tried again, but it locked up, no ammo. “Sonofa-,” he scowled and flexed his fists on the weapon… fists. His arm was blessed.

He threw the gun aside and sprinted towards them, their attention now on him and he instantly blocked the long knife aimed for his chest, his forearm having caught her and he aimed a strike to her stomach, just under the ribs.

“Get your damn gun!” he’d yelled to Hansel, noting the stunned expression turn to alert and he crawled for it. Bucky held tight to her wrist, forcing it back and then hearing the sickening break of bones and shrieking before she threw herself away from him in pain and fury. The other had flipped them around and came at him, but never made it as a shot rang out and hit her between the eyes, and then another and the entirety of two bodies in one dropped to the ground in a mess.

“Thank you,” he turned his gaze towards Hansel, watching as he casually got himself up onto his feet and sauntered towards him, his hand reaching out to clap him on the shoulder.

“I’d much prefer another reward than a brotherly pat,” Bucky huffed with a suggestive smirk, feeling rather confident after that ordeal.

“Oh, when this is over, there’s gonna be a different kind of ‘ _patting_ ’,” his brow raised at his attempt of a suggestive comeback, and by the sour expression on his face, Hansel was thinking the same. “That was crappy,”

“Very,” he smirked, a chuckle leaving chest.

“Would you settle for a complement until later?” Bucky knitted his brow, the smile still on his lips as he responded with a curious nod. “You look a whole lot better with that arm on show. Pretty badass,” he’d almost outright giggled, a bashful warmth building in his stomach. He hadn’t thought that he’d look any more attractive with it. His confidence had actually boosted slightly at his words.

“Better,” he commented with the heated flush reaching his neck and ears, and he distracted himself by turning towards Gretel as she ran their way.

“Muriel’s still alive,” that was her name!

“We’re not done? Whatever,” Hansel replied as he sat down, kneeling and huffing slightly, out of breath and most likely in pain from that stab wound. He glanced up at Bucky and gestured to his back, where he was holding the bag. “Give Gretel the-,” he trailed off, panting heavily. He did as instructed and slung it over his shoulders before passing it over, the woman giving him a twice over before turning back to her brother.

“She flew off that way,” she pointed away and then stalked off in the other direction, ringing another questioning frown to his face.

“Where’re you going?” Hansel called out to her.

“I have to help Edward,” … Edward?

“Who the fuck’s Edward?!” the hunter called out again, more confused than before.

\----------

“Ben!” Hansel yelled out as they ran down the hillside, having avoided the metal threads for a faster trip. Bucky could see the kid running towards them, a beaming smile on his face while sprinting their way with the gun in hand.

“Hansel! Hansel, Bucky!” he called to them as they slowed down to a jog and then a walk. “I did it! I did her! Muriel,” he grinned widely, proudly as he reached them, all three standing there for a moment of shock. Bucky felt that sliver of warm pride and reached out to pat him on the shoulder with his metal hand. He hadn’t realized he’d done it until the silver reached his eyes, but then he was already patting him. If it were possible, Ben smiled even wider at this.

“Where?” Hansel asked frantically, still out of puff from the fight and running, one of the upsides for Buck having enhanced metabolism, he guessed. He rarely ever ran out of breath, rarely ever needed a break or broke a sweat.

“Ah, I shot her down, over there,” the kid pointed in the direction ahead of them, the direction they’d been running in.

“Good job,” Hansel reiterated Bucky’s action quickly before darting off towards where Ben had pointed. He and the kid followed close behind, keeping steady pace as the dashed through the forestry, avoiding branches to the face and rabbit holes that could easily trip them. They’d noticed the clearing with a mess, a blue-ish large branch broke and dug into the ground. It looked like something came barrelling through and broke. A broom? Muriel? “She’s close,” the hunter confirmed his curiosity and they began jogging towards more forestry again.

Hansel slowed about half a mile in, noting dark, wet handprints on a few trees. They’d followed the trail, leading deeper and deeper into a gradually dying shrubbery. Trees were leafless and the ground was covered in orange and brown ones, scattered and dead. Bucky slowed quickly, almost having run into Hansel’s back as he’d stopped dead in his tracks.

“Oh, you can’t be serious,” he muttered quietly and flat, his posture seeming to slouch with complete exasperation at whatever he was looking at through the thick dead trees. It was only when he took a few steps forward that Bucky’s eyes landed on what he’d been staring at. It then clicked in his mind, a puzzle coming together. A sweet candy house, two children. Hansel and Gretel. Where the story began. This was...

“Is this-...” Ben trailed off distractedly, not being able to finish the sentence, much like Bucky’s thought.

“Yeah… yeah, yeah,” Hansel was unfocused, his mind definitely reeling and his body was as loosely and tired as he seemed the moment he came across the building a few seconds ago. “Whatever you do, don’t eat the fuckin’ candy,” his words were laced with irritation, even when he seemed like he’d had enough.

They started taking gradual steps towards the building, slow and steady, and Bucky’s arm was at the ready now that he was more than sure that it could be used against her. He was incredibly grateful to Hansel for using the last of the vial on him. He stepped up close to the hunter’s side, still eyeing the house with wild wary and agitation. He could feel the tension between his shoulder-blades, tightening his muscles.

“Aghhh!” pain erupted in his side, burning him as he was thrown towards the dead trees and ground, landing front first in the dirt, directly in front of them with his body throbbing, making him wince and hiss. He’d whined once or twice, his flesh hand shakily reaching under him and gripping where he’d been hit. He could feel the wetness, blood he was sure.

“Ah, ah, ah. Stop right there, or the little boy dies,” Bucky breathed and closed his eyes, forcing himself to move through the pain before squinting them open to scowl at the woman, currently holding Ben hostage. “It’s fitting that we’d end up here. Where it all _began_ ,” she taunted Hansel, a sick smile on her face. Bucky swallowed thickly, achingly glancing up to the hunter who’d taken a quick once over at him simultaneously. He had an expression that he couldn’t decipher and it worried Bucky.

“Drop it!” the witch ordered, jutting the tip of her wand deeper into the kids’ neck. He watched as Hansel reluctantly pulled his weapon back, hands rising in surrender with the gun still gripped. “Zola’s toy, I take it?” the name…

Bucky snapped his eyes widely towards her, staring with cold fear spreading through his being. He stiffened, his wound forgotten as he shook lightly in terrifying remembrance. “Tell me, does that arm have a red star?” it just continued to grow. He swallowed thickly, his breaths becoming faster and faster. “I knew him. Quite the genius in weapon creation. It seems you were a success considering that you’re alive-,”

“Bucky, don’t listen to her!” he shakily drew his scared frown towards Hansel, watching him carefully. Bucky took a breath, trying to ease himself while focusing on his words. “She’s just tryin’ to get under your skin, and it’s working. Don’t listen to her,” but she was… right. Zola tried to change him, his mind. He’d tried to take his memories, brainwash him into thinking of himself as some kind of weapon. He remembered that much. And it was terrifying that she knew-

“Bucky,” the word was spoken softly, caringly and loving. He swallowed again and forced himself to breath as he tried to push himself onto all fours, his hand still covering his wound and he gazed up at Hansel. He gave him a strained smile, the hunter nodding as a response.

“That-,” Bucky’s voice cracked in pain as he turned his eyes to the witch. “-... is none of your damn business, lady,” he forced out, coughing up some blood and wiping it with the metal of his free hand. “Don’t worry, Ben,” he directed his words towards the kid. “We won’t let her hurt you,” he still had his arm, Hansel still had his pistol.

“Oh really?” she scowled at him as the hunter gradually put his large gun down, subtly reaching behind himself for his pistol. He quickly got off a shot, hitting Ben in the shoulder, to which Bucky gawked at in incredulous disbelief and then he’d shot her after being forced to let him go from the bullet darting right through to her own chest. Though she’d dodged this time, throwing her wand out to grab a log and she then threw it at Hansel, sending him to the ground. Bucky managed to force himself to stand just as the log was thrown his way, dropping him to the ground again and it was tossed back to Hansel who’d had a chance to get up and then was only floored seconds later and thrown towards a tree.

“The end is near, witch hunter,” she dropped the log and strode towards the man. “I wish I could say it’d be painless,” Bucky dug deep and turned over, forcing himself onto his fours again and he silently pushed himself to stand, pushing the soreness and hurt down. He was already healing, which was a plus. “But that would be a lie,” he grabbed the log near him with his metal hand and threw it, hitting her to the ground for a moment with a yelp.

“You insolent little-,” she threw her wand out, sending him flying through the air. He felt his back slam against the doors circular frame and then he was lying face first in the leafy ground again. He coughed up more blood as the witch stepping over. “Not very smart, though I’m surprised you managed to catch me off guard,” she kicked her boot under him and flipped him over onto his back, his body aching and trying hard to respond. She gradually knelt, her expression dark as she reached out with her wand and then suddenly stuck it right through his wound, digging it around like she was playing with a toy, and he couldn’t hold the scream that tore through his chest and throat, bleeding into the air with a protestant yell leaving Hansel.

He could feel her draining him, her wand slipping fractionally deeper and taking his energy, his life. He whined, gradually feeling himself becoming weaker and weaker, his muscles and nerves slowly giving out.

She was forced to pull her wand back as she was shot at, ‘ _bang_ ’s filling the air and she was quickly thrown into the house with the last one. Bucky sputtered and coughed up more blood, trying to turn over so he could spit it out. The taste was vile and his body was numb with pain shooting through his nerves. It was a majority of what he could feel.

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no,” he heard Hansel repeat frantically, his voice changing pitches as he practically threw himself at his side on the ground and reached his hands out, quickly roaming his side before managing to shift him onto his back again and lifting him up just the slightest so he wouldn’t choke on the blood still being coughed up. “Bucky…” the hunter’s hand reached up to his face and he tried to focus on it, the pain still thrumming through him. Bucky swallowed and coughed again. He managed to glance up at him, noting the redness growing around the underside of his eyes, like he was about to cry. He almost wanted to laugh, but he was sure it’d hurt, and straining himself wouldn’t have been the best option.

“Hey,” Bucky tried instead, trying to force a bit of a smile as Hansel just stayed over him, looking almost like a wreck at that point. He felt him jerk slightly with a sad scoff, his lips curving up in the corners, but he could see the sadness building behind his guarded gaze.

“Hey,” his voice cracked with the response. “Don’t talk,” the man then added and he couldn’t help the painful huff-ish laugh that left him, wincing right after. “Don’t laugh either,” he sniffed wetly, and Bucky _inwardly_ scoffed that time. He’d never seen this man cry, and he’d rather not. It wasn’t something he’d look forward to seeing ever. Hansel wasn’t the type of man to let loose tears.

He could faintly hear the cluttering of the witch in the house, quiet sounds of her movement and he took a quick glance towards the doors and back up to Hansel, who still seemed as if he was about to cry.

“Do me a favour?” he strained, knowing he wouldn’t be able to get up, not with this wound, and definitely not yet. It was too severe and he’d lost too much blood as it was. He needed to stay put and rest, maybe take a few hours of shuteye before even attempting to move.

“Yeah, anything,” Bucky lightly cleared his throat and winced before forcing his left arm to move, the metal hand raising and carefully cupping the man’s face, his thumb running over his cheekbone.

“Kill that bitch,” he hissed darkly, panting quickly for a moment before coughing again, his throat feeling raw.

“Okay,” Hansel’s hand reached up, cupping his metal hand and their fingers intertwined, the hunter’s palm against the back of his and squeezed. Bucky hadn’t felt it, but from the clenching of muscles under the man’s skin, he could see that he had. “You did good, just-,” he paused, sniffing again, a little more violently that time and he’d shifted him slightly, lowering him just a bit with his other hand under his head, holding him close still before adding “Don’t talk,” and he then lingered, gazing at him almost awkwardly too long.

It then clicked that maybe there was a reason as to why and he scowled at him, his eyes brightening just a bit from amusement and frustration.

“I’m not dying, you idiot,” he huffed, resisting the painful winces that tried escaping him.

“You’re not?” Hansel questioned with a deadpan expression, eyes wide and blank for a moment.

“No!” if Bucky could’ve moved without hurting, he’d have slapped him with his metal hand, causing him at least a little pain for the stupidity. “Enhanced metabolism, remember?” he frowned slightly, watch the dumb expression cross his face and he nodded as if only just remembering the ability himself.

“... Oh,” yeah… Bucky lightly shook his head, feeling the mild ache from the movement spread to his neck and he groaned through closed lips.

“Give me an hour and I’ll be standing again,” he mentioned, though it was a bit of a lie. Maybe two or three at least would’ve been more truthful, considering the how badly he was wounded. Bucky coughed again before eyeing the hunter fondly and then reaching the metal hand to the area between his shoulder and chest, giving him a gentle shove. “Just go kill her, please?”

“Uh- yeah, yeah, okay,” he stuttered dumbly again before hesitating to lower him to the ground. Bucky had been about to kick him into the house when he finally laid him down and reluctantly stood up to leave him there in favour of fighting the witch within the candy house.

As soon as he’d rolled through the door with his gun, there was the sound of something metal hitting something else and Hansel had grunted, and then the witch, and then Hansel again and then glass and china breaking, like plates hitting the floor or breaking. It was gradually getting harder to decipher the sounds as his mind began to blur, the bloodloss and exhaustion finally drawing his thoughts away and his ability to even stay conscious-

“Bucky!” his hearing flared and he forced his gaze to shift, landing on Gretel as she jogged towards him, crouching for a moment, but no! She had to-

“In there, in there,” he painfully gestured towards the doors to the building and strained to shove her in that direction. She seemed to get it and raised her crossbow as she yelled her way into through the doors.

After that, all he was able to hear was fighting, muffled shouts and things breaking, while he could only stare up into the sky with his vision blurring, getting darker and darker, pain gradually dulling- no!

“Nnngh,” he forced himself to stay awake, his eyes squeezing as he tried turning over and pant harshly while on his front. Bucky wheezed and swallowed roughly, whining and wincing at the pain that flooded through him. He felt so weak, so unbelievably tired. But he had to force himself awake, trying to keep his gaze sharp and strong as he attempted to get up onto his hands and knees, leaning back to kneel there, still panting and he clutched his flesh hand over his wound. Staying up would force him to stay awake, so that was what he did.

He listened out, keeping his mind focused by listening in on the fight inside the house. There was grunting, yelling, the sounds of things breaking and he was sure that he’d heard chains and faint crying for a moment.

“Hansel!” Bucky’d heard Gretel yell, and just as she did, he’d seen a body fall not that far from the doors. He could see a little ways in, not too far, but the hunter had fallen within sights. And it was the fear that hit him, his eyes widening and his body began shifting without a second thought. He dropped to his hands and tried to push his legs, forcing himself to crawl, the pain still buzzing through him as he hissed and tried to ignore it.

Once he’d made it to the frame, he reached up, using the strength in his metal arm to draw himself up onto violently shaking legs. He then stumbled his way through and fell through the doorway, landing ever so close to the man. Bucky grunted and forced himself up again-

“Bucky!” he reluctantly snapped his gaze up towards the female hunter as she slid something across the floor from where she was lying on the ground, just as beaten up and broken as he felt.

A needle? Hansel’s medication! It had gone off? His timer? Was that why he’d fallen?!

“Now!” her cry broke him from his lingering thoughts and he crawled halfway over the man to grab it, awkwardly pulling it from the pocket that was regularly tied to Hansel’s thigh. He frantically uncapped the sharp end and kneeled to the side of the hunter, aiming for his thigh before thrusting it in and pressing the lever down, watching the watery green liquid quickly disappear from the glass tube. And once it was gone, he carefully pulled it out and tossed it to the side, leaning back over the man with his metal hand holding him up with barely any stability. His other hand, the flesh one, reached out to cup his bloody face, worry nearly overshadowing his pain that continued to grow from his adrenaline fuelled movements.

Bucky waited frustratingly, his nerves shaking so violently until he saw the twitching and large breath Hansel took in. It drew a bark of happy laughter from his chest, obviously causing more pain, but he ignored it in favour of planting a kiss against the groggy man’s lips, quick, but strong with emotion and he’d pulled back to see the stunned gaze staring back at him, eyes wide while he panted.

He seemed to realize what had been happening when Gretel yelled, both men turning to see and Hansel was instantly on his feet, grabbing a nearby shovel and slamming it against the witch’s face. He continued to hit her with it as Bucky shifted back and out of the way, hiding in the corner near the open doors.

The hunter hit one last time and she’d fallen back, tripping and then landing on the wooden floorboards. Hansel jumped atop her and held the neck of the shovel to her neck, pressing it down on her windpipe with his weight put behind him. He then pulled back, turned the makeshift weapon straight and plunged it down, the metal end which was used to shovel dirt being buried in her neck. He held it down hard as she tried to grab at him, grunting and wheezing harshly as Gretel stepped up behind her brother.

“Finish her already,” As the words were said, Bucky watched as she lifted her boot and slammed it down on the shovel with brute form, said force separating the witch's head from her shoulders in gut wrenching sound, like a sharp knife cutting through a huge piece of tough meat. He’d actually gagged and turned away, eyes closed as he leaned back against the wall, pain suddenly rearing its head now that he’d relaxed enough and the adrenaline had passed.

He achingly glanced up as Ben suddenly came barrelling through the door, panting lightly and then pausing, staring at the hunters with the dismembered head in Hansel’s grasp. The kid suddenly turned away and doubled over puking right there and Bucky gagged again, his hand rising to his mouth, clamping it shut as he gagged again.

“Hey, you a’right?” Bucky glanced up, catching the man’s gaze and he stepped over, his expression serious as he crouched down and reached out his hands towards him, the hot palms and fingers carefully curling around him to gently ease him up to his feet. He’d had to lean most of his weight against the hunter, Hansel’s arm wrapped around his waist and the other held his metal arm across his shoulder, managing to keep him on his feet.

“Yeah, just-,” he stumbled slightly as they stepped forward, Bucky trying to force himself to move.

“Take it easy,” Hansel assured, keeping his own steps slow for him. “Baby steps,”

“I can still use my arm as a weapon, remember that,” he chuckled lightly, resisting the wince from the aching as his shoulders shook.

He’d never have thought that this… _all_ of this, would’ve happened.

Being accused of being a witch, being saved by Hansel and Gretel, managing to talk to the man that he’d had growing feelings for, and then embarrassing himself, finding him in a tree and then… what happened at the hot-spring...

A soft smile reached his lips as he recalled that experience.

All in all, he’d never expected any of this to have happened. Not ever. But he’d had a fun adventure, entertaining and interesting. What a story it’d be to tell Steve, Tony and Sam-...

“Steve’s gonna freak out,” he muttered softly to himself.

** End. **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not really the end, sort of.
> 
> I'm in the middle of writing the sex scene from the Hot-spring/healing pond. A friend requested that I do it, so I am and It's going right at the end, so it's optional if you want to read it or not. Hansel/Bucky, Hansel tops. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed :)


	3. Hot-Springs Extended scene (Extended By Me)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's your sex scene. Hope you enjoy ;D

“Are you done yet?” Hansel questioned him deeply as he squeezed some of the water out of his napkin. “I’ve gotta get to my sister,” he added. Bucky inched back over and gently reached his flesh hand up to his warm, smooth neck without thought, taking a soft grip to keep him still as he used his metal hand, holding the cloth, to carefully wipe away the grime and blood. It was bizarre on how careful he could actually be with the hand, and it was even crazier that Hansel hadn’t even flinched as he reached it in before cleaning his skin with it.

It gave him confidence, which was rare to him. Though the very shirtless Hansel was making it hard for him to take in the boosts of confidence. It was distracting.

“I’m not a miracle worker, so it may take a while,” he shrugged, shifting the cloth in hand for a clean area to wipe down more dirt. “But these need to be cleaned or you’ll get a fever,” Bucky tilted his hand and hand just a bit to clear the blood running down between his eye and the bridge of his nose, dripping lower to halt at his upper lip. He’d cleaned away a majority, and then returned to the water, rubbing the dirt and red from his thick cloth before turning around again.

“Fever…” Hansel had scoffed humourlessly, as if not bothered by the prospect at all. Bucky reached forward again, his hand reaching for his neck once more, and he’d caught himself this time, just as he rested his warm hand on the back of his nape and held there loosely, feeling the smooth skin and the brush of his short hairline. He eyed the man, glancing over his calm features as he calmly reached his hand in again to wipe up more of the grit left on him, and the thin layer blood that was still there.

“Must’ve been quite a fight. You look like shit,” he commented without really thinking, continuing to clean even when he’d slightly stiffened after registering what he’d said. He’d found out about the witches from an elderly couple late last night, while he and Steve had been housing them. The old woman had seen a dark red haired one, an ugly woman with a stick in hand and a dark dress.

“Not what you said the other day,” and that had caught him slightly off guard, causing him to pause and then clear his throat awkwardly before continuing where he’d been cleaning the dirt from his neck and shoulder. Hansel had done the same, clearing his throat for a moment before adding. “I think the real damage was to my dignity, which I left somewhere in that tree back there,” Hansel joked dryly, causing a smile to grace Bucky’s lips as he let a light, soft laugh leave him. He glanced over to the hunter, catching his scoff, a grin curving into his own lips and he’d caught his eyes. Their gazes locked and his smile just seemed to grow that little bit, warmth spreading through his chest and the fluttering felt stronger, as if the butterflies multiplied.

They reluctantly turned away almost in unison, Bucky having dropped his first to rinse the cloth, a sudden thought coming to mind as he stared into his reflexion in the sun graced water. He bit the inside of his lip, swallowing before deciding to give the thought a shot. Bucky lifted up, leaning his metal elbow on his bent knee as he casually looked over his shoulder, towards the man.

“Think it’d be easier if you just get in,” he turned his body gradually, half facing him and the water. A thoughtful expression crossed the man’s features and then he shook his head.

“Oh, no, no, no, I can’t,” Hansel turned to him, still gradually shaking his head. Bucky gave a shrug and shifted to wet the cloth again, ready for if he really didn’t want to. He had an idea or two that had a chance of working, but if the man was adamant...

“It’s not healing water or anything, but hot water sterilizes wounds,” he explained simply, turning back around to gently run the warm fabric over the crook of his neck, over the cuts that were red and still healing. “It’s a hot-spring,” he added, stroking the cloth over the upper half of his chest.

“Yeah, I don’t swim well,” he shook his head again, eyeing him and Bucky could feel the soft gaze. He paused and looked up at him, eyes locking again as he sat back slightly with his elbow sitting on his knee once more.

“Then…” a smile gracing his lips again. “I’ll go in with you,” he’d been planning on going in either way, so it didn’t matter unless Hansel would join him. He really wished he would though. Bucky pushed himself to stand, dropping the wet clothes on the mossy stone aside the hunter and he reached into his pocket, drawing out a banded lace. He quickly tied his hair into a tail and took a deep breath before unbuttoning his white, sleeved shirt. He hadn’t pulled it off, only undone it all the way down. His shoes came off and he started unlacing his fly.

“Ah, okay,” Hansel grunted and forced himself to stand. Bucky thought nothing of it as he hissed and stepped away, moving behind him and over to where their things sat in the soft grass. Once he’d unlaced himself, he dragged the leather down his legs and stepped out of them, his legs from his upper thighs and down now completely bare of anything. His shirt was long enough to just cover his rear. “ _Hoo boy,_ ” he’d caught the whisper. It didn’t sound as if he disliked it, which he was thankful for.

Now was the slightly hard part...

Bucky slipped his flesh arm out of the sleeve, finding it easy as it swung behind him and revealed his entire right side, from neck to… _everything_ below, but the left… his metal arm. He lingered, hesitant with his right hand holding the materiel to the solid shoulder. His scars were horrific and the only other person that had seen them was Steve, and only Steve. Not even Sam and Tony had seen them. What would Hansel think at seeing them? The thought was terrifying...

He... he shouldn’t be thinking that way, it’d only depress him. That was what Steve usually said, and he was sure that he’d be telling him the same in this situation. Thinking of the arm as a hindrance or a disability wasn’t something he should’ve been thinking. A blank thought crossed his mind, a thought that was fast, blunt, uncaring. _‘fuck-it’_. He took another longer breath in as his hand began pulling the shirt from his shoulder and down his bicep, from there, it slipped from his arm and all that was left was the glove, to which was pulled off in one simple tug.

He was bare, completely nude. As naked as the day he was born.

He stayed there for a moment, unmoving with his eyes shut, a faint fear lacing him. Bucky swallowed thickly and took a step forward, planning on taking that relaxing bathe he’d been planning, with his plus-one hopefully.

Bucky stepped to the edge of the grass, dipping his foot in, and then the other, gradually inching in further and down the slope beneath the water, the heated pond warming him in seconds of getting deeper and deeper. Once he was about hip deep, he paused, already catching the metallic tweaking of the plates of his arm sealing shut once the water made the tiniest bit of contact. His fingers danced over the surface, shaping the water and sending tiny waves around his front and sides.

“So it’s… it’ll help, did you say?” Bucky lifted his eyes and glanced over his metal shoulder with an almost purely innocent expression on his face, nodding subtly at him as affirmation. “Okay… uh,” he watched the man eye his own shirt and then drop it, hesitating for a moment before slipping his boots of while simultaneously unbelting his trousers. Hansel avoided his eyes, keeping them downcast while he stripped and then slid them down his thighs and further until he could step out of them, now completely bare as well, and he still avoided looking him in the eyes. The hunter cleared his throat and inched forward, Bucky taking the short time to innocently glance away, though it was to hide his ‘ _not so innocent_ ’ smile, as he stepped over to the other end of the hot-spring, turning so his back was towards it and sitting on the ledge that jutted out under the heated water. He took a seat and watched the surface dance as Hansel took the first step in. Though it wasn’t in the same place as Bucky had entered and he stepped into a slightly deeper area, the water instantly rising to about mid-thigh. He was forced to step in with the other to keep balance and quickly slipped to sit, the water rocking them both and the hunters arms flailed slightly before he spun to catch the shrubbery around the outter edge of the pond.

Bucky hid his smile, biting at the insides of his lower lip to keep from showing how entertained he currently was. Though it was a fight when the man glanced over his shoulder and took a breath.

“I got it,” he muttered more to himself and he couldn’t hold it much longer, his lips curving at the corners and pulling a genuine, wide smile across his features. One graced Hansel's lips as well and he’d scoffed lightly, glancing around a little to obviously avoid too much eye contact while both were completely nude. He could tell that the man was the type. Bucky only gazed, watching him with amusement and interest as he sat against the low rock behind him, water warming him from his biceps and down. His shoulders were above, feeling the cool air only on the one.

“You know, the last time I was in waters like this,” Hansel started, catching Bucky’s attention as he sat still, water still rocking lightly against him as the hunter waded and treaded the surface. “I came across a formidable serpent witch,” he glanced over to Bucky for a moment before eyeing the waters and turning gradually, as if surveying the area. He watched him with growing interest, his mind stuck between wanting to hear more of the adventure and wanting to hold him, or be _held by him_ , if he was being a little more specific. “She looked like a toad, and she could breathe under water, making her difficult to track,” Bucky smiled to himself as edged off of the rock, slipping deeper into the water as he took gradual steps towards the centre. The water was actually up to his shoulders as he stood there, straight with only the front pads of his feet touching the smooth ground. “She was deadly,” he inched closer, gently striding under the water towards him, arms giving him a smooth paddle, not really disrupting the water's surface while stepping into the rib-high shallows. Though he stayed about chest deep, bending his legs just a bit.

“Tell me more,” Bucky requested with a light smile and intrigue as he slowly swam up beside him, hand reaching out to hold the rocky edge of the ground rounding the pond as Hansel seemed to pause, searching him by the way he eyed him with a curious glint. They were fairly close at that point, Bucky having inched nearer until they were closer than full arms length.

“She dragged me under first, by my ankle,” he’d continued carefully, his tone the same pitch and he seemed intent on watching him now, gauging him as he treaded the waters right in front of him. “Couldn’t breathe,” he seemed to subconsciously inch closer, still eyeing him. He sounded almost distracted. “Everything got dark fast, with my lungs filling up with... Water,” Bucky’s breathing started to get heavy as Hansel was mere inches from his face, and getting closer. He almost gasped when the hot hands ghosted over his hip and waist side. “Gretel stuck her with an arrow before…” the hunter trailed off, his voice softening, and he’d gravitated closer, the hands almost directing him closer and into Hansel’s body. “Before…” Bucky could feel the heat somehow rising further, if that was possible. His body was smouldering and the hands just seemed to make him melt in his light grip, even more so when his body pressed against the hunters, his back arching softly.

“Before what?” Bucky whispered against the man’s lips, feeling the low panting, puffs of warm air blanketing his mouth. The hands laced his waist and upper back, his own bracing themselves over his shoulders with one hand pressing gently against his chest. He’d been lifted a little, being sat onto his lap as Hansel turned and shifted back towards the smooth, rock bank wall.

“‘Nough talking,” Hansel replied just before leaning in the last inch or two to kiss him, his moist, hot lips pressing against his own and felt his heart hammer against his ribs, the flutter turning warm and spreading through his body at break-neck speed. His stomach had flipped happily as the man’s grip tightened and held him closer, now completely straddling the hunters’ waist as they kissed over and over. He refused to move his left hand, but his right was allowed to wander, his fingers ghosting down his pectoral and down his side, only to roam up again.

It was unbelievable, what they were doing, and it brought so much joy and excitement to him to have the hot hands over him, holding him close. The moist mouth pressing against, much like their bodies. It was incredible.

The man’s’ grip on him was firm, yet gentle, holding him close while pressed against the warm, smooth rocks. He could feel the heat along his torso and leading down between his legs, Hansel’s hot body making solid contact and light friction as he shifted just a little. Bucky resisted the urge to roll his hips, not wanting to continue too fast, but at the hunters’ panting and continuous shifting, it was getting harder and harder not to.

He was distracted by the lips suddenly attaching themselves to his neck, closer to his left arm than he’d have thought the man would go. Bucky hooked his legs over Hansel’s thigh, pulling him as close as possible without any protesting from the hunter, and softly closed his eyes, swallowing thickly at the feel of the gradually hardening length pressing against him, pressing against his sac and the flesh behind it. The limb was hot, hot enough that he’d felt the burn against his taint. He dropped his head back just a bit and felt Hansel’s hands shift, one slipping down further than the other to grip solidly at his upper thigh, between there and his rear. His fingers stretched, testing the firm skin with light gropes and presses. Bucky arched softly and felt the hand slip further under him. He was ready for it, he wanted this. He wanted this man to take him, to use him as he wanted.

He resisted gasping once he’d felt the soft pads of his fingers brush between his cheeks and press against his hole, gentle and oh so tenderly while it slipped back and forth, over the ring. Bucky’d felt the hot fluttering in his chest spread, growing warmer and a slight bit more violent, sharper at the touches and gentle prodding of his two fingers as they slowly slipped in. He panted lightly with a gasp, his chest rising and falling against the hunter who gradually pulled his head back to stare at him with glazed eyes, watching him intently as he almost squirmed in his grasp.

“You really want this?” he’d heard him ask dazedly, distractedly, and Bucky managed to focus his own gaze, locking their sights as he tried to press their hips even closer together with the fingers sinking deeper and pulling back only to slip in again and it was hard not to gasp or groan at the feel. He’d only then realised that he was rocking his hips.

“Yes,” Bucky answered with a slightly shaky tone, faltering for a second as Hansel’s fingers spread apart inside, spreading him open in-turn. It felt odd with the water surrounding him, but he ignored that in favour of feeling the hunter’s digits loosening him up. His answer seemed to satisfy him, regardless of the wavering in his tone.

Bucky breathed hard at the feel of the fingers curling, twisting against his walls and on his insides. It forced a gasp from him, his back arching further and he’d had to pull his arms back to rest his elbows on the bank, lifting him a little out of the water for leverage. Hansel had moved with him, still pressing close while they shifted halfway out of the hot-spring, bodies still soaked and heated from the water and now being shined on by the warm sun. He felt the fingers sinking deeper and pulling back only to dip back in again, continuing that motion for a moment before pulling back to add a third to the two. Hansel did the same again, pushing them in and Bucky felt the light burn of his hole stretching. He rocked his hips down against him, rolling just a bit and arching for more. Eventually he just swallowed and eyed the hunter, focusing easily.

“Enough of the fingers,” he stated roughly, swallowing again. And there was a pause. He watched as Hansel stared, just stared distractedly and unfocused, but he _did_ pull his fingers out, letting them fall from him and grip his thighs again, lifting him just a little with his legs holding tightly while hooked over the hunters’ hips. He felt the blunt end of his shaft pressing against the seam between his check, smooth and hard. It made the flutter in his chest spasm just for a moment, his breath catching. He felt the heat of it, different from the water as it was moved, slipping further down between his cheeks until the tip was pressed between them, parting them and slipped up against his hole, just pressing and prodding, no penetration yet.

Bucky stared back up at him, noting the still unfocused gaze, but he was watching him, eyeing him over and he reached down, leaning his body with him until he was mere meters from his face, lips inching in and taking his own in a soft way. He kissed him over and over and only seconds later, he’d felt the tip press in, his hips inching forward and his hole stretching with a warm burn. His mouth fell slightly open, Hansel seeming to want to take it as an invitation and he deepened the kiss, his tongue slipping in and melting against his own.

The hunter slipped further in, sinking deeper and deeper and widening him so far so fast. He gave him the time to adjust as he paused maybe three quarters of the way deep. He just watched him as they kissed, Bucky opening his eyes just a bit to see that Hansel was watching with a half-lidded and dazed expression. He gasped lightly as he felt his hips jerk, his muscles shaking just a little from the hunters’ solid posture. He barely moved, but he was sure he was controlling himself, or at least trying to for him. The kissing had been a distraction from the discomfort of the stretching.

Hansel gently bucked his hips, testing the waters and Bucky’s back was arched softly, forcing the small of his back from the wall and warm water. Another light thrust and he saw the bliss gradually making its way onto his face as he continued, staring down at him as he started a steady thrusting pace. He’d pulled back and bucked forward, his hips bumping and brushing his and hearing the light ‘woosh’ of the water as it hit the bank and made shallow waves around them. He did it again and again, and Bucky rolled his hips with him, meeting him halfway. He closed his eyes and knitted his brow, his mouth open just a little while gasping with each buck and jerk that seemed to slowly get harder and a tad bit more frantic, as if Hansel knew that he’d be able to take it now that he’d sank deeper and Bucky was well adjusted to his size and body.

He lifted his lower waist every time the hunter rolled forward, meeting him mid-way and now feeling the thrusts getting faster and harder. He started panting hard and starting rocking with him, the heat gradually turning up if that was even possible. His hands were well fastened when they gripped him, gravitating between his hips and thighs for leverage and/or stability. Buckys were gripping at the rock edges, the metal one easily being heard, the ‘ _whir_ ’ of the inner mechanisms sounding as he used them, the motor control and wires working harder. It was a lot more rhythmical than their gasps and Hansel’s grunts.

“Haahh,” He’d heard the hunter groan against his lips, the heated puffs blanketing his mouth again and he gasped in response, feeling him buck and thrust harder. His breath hitched and his body tensed and clenched and he’d arched his waist over and over, meeting him harder and faster when Hansel leaned in, taking his warm, moist lips in another kiss and Bucky almost whined at all the contact and friction, his shaft locked against their stomachs as they rutted and shifted.

“Hansel,” he bit the hunters’ lip, hearing the gasp and they returned to kissing again. There were hot sparks shooting through his body, spreading and shorting towards and inside of him, heading straight for his groin, tightening him and forcing him to convulse and clench around the hot, hard thickness thrashing against his insides. He arched hard again and pushed himself closer to the hunter, feeling him slam in just right at the same time.

Bucky gasped loudly and tensed completely, body straining and they both stilled, Hansel’s convulsing a bit more violently before he buried his face in his neck. He tried to relax and pulled the man forward with his hooked legs. He’s calmed and forced himself to unclench, feeling the softening shaft still deep inside, having released in there too. Bucky had blown his load over his abdomen and the hunters’, white and creamed spots spreading and smearing between them, a few probably mixing with the water.

Bucky carefully dropped his head back against the smoother rocks, panting harshly and heatedly with warmth around him and inside completely ignored. Hansel wasn’t heavy at all as weighed him down against the wall, lying across his front with his mouth and nose pressed into the crook of his neck, breathing just as roughly against him. He’d say that they were clammy, but only their upper halves. Their lower waists were still under the surface of the hot-springs.

He forced himself to take a breath, a low and calm one, easing it out shakily before even attempting to open his eyes and try to glance at the man that was still nuzzling at his neck, now placing gentle kisses there as they relaxed in the water and sun… the lowering sun. He eyed it, squinting at the brightness and looked away, blinking tiredly.

“Hey,” Hansel muffled against his skin, Bucky yawning as he lifted his head just a bit to see the man gazing up at him from his neck. He let the corner of his mouth curve up, seeing the hunters’ curve as well and he pushed himself up to his elbows, now gazing down at him. Bucky smiled up and relaxed further, letting his hands release the walls and snake upwards and behind his head, fingers locking. Hansel only stared, gazed, watched him with interest.

“Hey," he replied lamely, eyeing him in return. He could see a strange glint in his eyes, something telling him that this moment wouldn’t be lasting much longer. And he’d been right. Hansel leaned in to kiss him again, short, only a few seconds and he stood up, carefully pulling his hips back. Bucky’s breath hitched as it was drawn out, the limp shaft slipping out before the hunter pulled back completely and went into the slightly deeper part of the pond, ducking lower to quickly wash himself before splashing his face and then shaking, like an animal.

He then turned and headed for the shore, Bucky pushing himself up and washing himself down in the water, simple, fast and easy and he’d followed after, Hansel having a few seconds of a head-start on redressing. They were gradually drying, the sun doing it for them as he slipped into his trousers again, slipping his boots on swiftly after and then he covered his upper half, buttoning his white long-sleeve and then tucking it into his trousers before lacing them. His tunic came next.

“Following this road, you should make it back to Augsburg by nightfall,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What'd you think? Enjoy? 
> 
> This was really fun to write, I think I may have found one of my favourite things to do. I'm thinking about doing the same as I did with Bourne Legacy, the Bourne movie that Jeremy Renner was in. I'm thinking of making a series based on edited movies for these two and maybe a few others. 
> 
> Let me know what you think or just comment for the sake of it, I love conversing with you guys :)


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